An Unwritten Future
by Aurette
Summary: Still struggling with the aftermath of the war, Hermione decides to leave everything behind to go find herself. She travels further than she could have ever imagined without going anywhere at all. Along the way, she discovers someone she mistakenly thought she'd known... AU, M.
1. Muddying the Waters

**AN:** Dear **Drinkingcocoa**, It was a simple prompt. Really it was. 'Give Snape a tender, yet hot, first time in the rose bushes to make up for the way he'd been taunted into thinking he was undesirable.' Easy peasy. It could have even been a one-shot. But my muse wasn't satisfied with a one-shot, no. Instead, you get this. Nearly six months late, but hopefully all the better for the delay.

I present, Aurette's version of a time-turner fic. Except, it turns out I can't even get time turners right…

**Not Mine. No Money**. Still Fifty Shades of Broke.

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Hermione watched the celebration from a quiet corner. The gaiety and _joie de vivre_ around her seemed forced and necessary and grating. It wasn't that she minded their abandon; it was just that she couldn't feel it on the inside, only stand on the outside and remember what it had been like to be happy. Taking another sip of her champagne, she looked around at what they were celebrating.

The rebuilding of Hogwarts had been long and arduous, but once again, the ceiling of the great hall reflected the beauty of a long Scottish evening. The ball made it look festive and wondrous, with decorations hiding the scars and mismatched stones where repairs were obvious. New plaques on the walls recorded the names of the fallen from each race that had participated in the final battle. As she watched, an occasional person would stoop to read them, usually reaching out and touching a particular name before returning to the music and laughter with fierce determination.

No one came over to look at the memorial she was seated next to. The black marble bust sat on a crude plinth made from one of the original stones of the school. Battered and worn, she thought the plinth was the perfect symbol to represent the man. The sculpture did him justice as well. There was no name, no explanation for who it was, but no one would ever mistake him for anyone else. She glanced at his finely chiseled forehead with its groove of strain between the brows; his over-sized nose, faithfully carved but unflattering nonetheless; and the delicately rendered mouth. Had he always had such a cupid's bow of a mouth? It looked different when not pressed flat in anger.

She sighed. Such a loss to the Wizarding World…

One of far too many losses.

Flitwick started his musicians into a lively waltz and there was a ripple of pleasure before couples started out onto the floor with dazzling, slightly manic smiles. She saw Harry whirl Ginny around, pausing to exchange a laugh with Arthur and Molly. Minerva danced with Kingsley, talking a mile a minute, most likely about the changes to be made when the school opened again in two months. Pomona danced with Hootch, the two of them laughing gaily as they fought for the lead, and Ron…

…oh, Ron.

He looked handsome and elegant in his formal black dress robes. She watched as he twirled Padma in a circle before spinning her off out of sight. He was happy. That was important, wasn't it? She was above thinking he should be miserable just because she still was. She was the one that had broken things off after all. She just wished that their split hadn't taken away everyone she could have counted on to replace her lost family. Molly and Arthur were polite but distant now. Ginny and Harry were the same—warm and sincere, and yet unable to bridge the gulf. It had been Harry's idea to set up Ron with Padma again, and this time it seemed to have been a good match. They'd been inseparable all night. In fact, Padma was staring at him with just a tad too much adoration to be seemly to Hermione's mind.

She drained her glass and set it on the table. This, she couldn't watch.

"If you'll excuse me, Professor," she said to the statue next to her. "I need some air."

She slipped over to the door and out into the rose garden. The garden, as well as the exit leading out to it, had always been a temporary feature, charmed into existence for a special occasion. However, a strategically-placed breach in the wall had lent itself to making it into a permanent exit, and the idea of a memorial garden had naturally followed.

The music swirled out the door with her as she took a deep, cleansing breath.

"Hello, Hermione." She looked over to see Professor Sinistra sitting on a bench. Hermione and her former Astronomy teacher had become friends over the last year. Although hundreds of people helped out on the rebuilding, few had elected to move in and work full time. Those that had, had formed a small, companionable group.

"You look as overwhelmed as I am," she said. "Come, join me. Tell old Aurora all about it, dear."

Smiling her acknowledgement, Hermione walked over and sat down, taking care not to snag her dress robes on the bushes. She sighed and looked up at the stars, only just beginning to make an appearance. "I guess I'm not as desperate to forget as they are," she said. "It's only been a little over a year. There's too many people missing." She shook her head. "Too many dead."

Aurora nodded. "I know. Life goes on, yes, but this feels almost like we're being told to get over it, doesn't it?"

"_Yes._ Exactly that." Hermione found herself nodding ferociously to illustrate a more intangible level of agreement.

They sat in silence for a moment, listening to the music and watching the shadows of dancing couples that spilled out the door.

"Who do you miss the most?" the Astronomy teacher asked.

The answer came faster than thought. "My parents."

The other woman turned toward her and placed a hand on Hermione's arm. "I'm so sorry, dear. You never told me you'd lost them."

She grimaced. "'Lost' is an apt term. They're alive, but I Obliviated them and sent them to Australia before I went on the run. I went back to reclaim them, but it couldn't be done." She shook her head. "It was awful. They knew on some level they were missing me. Mum was undergoing hormone therapy to try and get pregnant, and they were talking about looking into surrogacy if that didn't work. It was horrible to watch. They didn't want a full-grown daughter to spring back into their lives. They wanted all the memories that went with it. In the end, I left them to it. I did give my mum a fertility potion though."

Sinistra squeezed her arm. "That's a bitter thing. I'm so sorry."

Hermione nodded swiping at the tears as they formed. She sniffed and asked, "Who do you miss the most?"

Sinistra smiled sadly. "Colin Creevey." She nodded at Hermione's look of surprise. "He was such a love, wasn't he? And one of my best students—when you could keep his attention for longer than a minute. He's become a symbol to me. The price innocence paid for our freedom." Sinistra rose to her feet with easy grace. "Come. Let's walk."

They strolled through the gardens, arm in arm together. The scent of roses was a soothing balm, and the ghostly white flowers were a surprisingly fitting touch.

"I wonder if he would have blasted these too?" Aurora said in a quiet voice.

"Who? Professor Snape?"

The teacher nodded. "He's another one I miss. Heavens, but wasn't I the subversive his last year, working quietly to make his life hell, just like the rest of the staff. And all along, he was doing what he could. I wish I could have told him I was sorry."

Hermione sighed. "I know the feeling. How awful to have lived your entire life completely misunderstood."

Sinistra waved a hand in an empty gesture. "He wanted it that way, or at least, that's what I read in the papers after the inquest. He'd ordered Dumbledore to never let anyone know."

"I know. It doesn't make it any less awful, does it?" Hermione asked.

Sinistra shook her head. "No. It doesn't."

They took a turn on the path and heard muffled giggling and a rustle of fabric. Sharing an amused look, they turned and headed in another direction.

"That's why he hated the roses, so much, you know," Aurora said.

Hermione snorted. "I remember hearing stories of him destroying all the little hidey holes in the garden after the Yule Ball the year of the Triwizard tournament."

"Not just that year. He always did."

"Did he have a particular dislike of roses? Or just snogging teenagers?"

"Teenagers snogging in the rose bushes were a particular peeve. I think it was because he never got the chance to. It was also a painful reminder of what he'd lost. Imagine spending your whole life in love with just one person… and to never be loved in return. It's awful to contemplate. I think it's enough to make me begin to hate roses as well."

"I'm not sure I follow…"

Sinistra shook her head, sadly. "This is where he first found Lily Evans and James Potter together. I believe they were all sixth-years at the time, perhaps older. It does tend to blur. I was the one that stopped the ensuing duel and assigned detention. Again. I was forever assigning those two detentions, but that night was particularly memorable. I felt awful for him. We'd all seen the way he'd mooned after her, and we'd all seen how the wind was blowing. I think that was the moment his poor heart finally broke. It's hard to keep lying to yourself when you catch your paragon of virtue with her heels in the air."

Hermione winced for poor Professor Snape. "The more I hear, and Minerva has told me a bit as well, the less I understand how he could have been so devoted. She really didn't treat him very well. Imagine how different the world would have been had he actually got his girl and found out she was a judgmental cow."

Sinistra laughed. "That certainly seems like how it would have played out." She shook her head. "Although, I think if there had been just one other girl to catch his eye, he might have found that out with less pain."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, you must have seen this play out with your peers. It's such a common foible. 'I don't want you but no one else is allowed to have you either.' Evans strung him along terribly. She liked being worshipped. Lots of young blokes get treated that way in school, but they eventually find someone else and move on. Snape never did. When she died, I think it cemented his heart shut and sealed him into his fate. Had there even been a hint of another girl before that moment, things would have been different. Severus was blind where she was concerned, but he was never stupid. She would have been furious, and he would've seen the truth quickly enough."

Aurora reached out and plucked a rose. "But there never _was_ anyone else. Poor man. He was so homely that no one wanted him."

Hermione waved a hand back at the Great Hall. "Actually, I was looking at his bust earlier and thinking it wasn't really that bad. I mean, he was no heartthrob, to be sure, but he did have his qualities."

"Oh, he had a unique charm. When he smiled his entire face changed, and he could look quite handsome. But more often than not, the inside is reflected on the outside. He _was_ miserable, so he _looked_ miserable. He _was_ off-putting, so he _looked_ off-putting, you see? His bitterness and manner ruined any attractive quality and almost invariably blotted out any fondness one developed towards him."

"True. He was a bit brusque."

"Brusque?" The older woman broke into a peal of laughter. "That's one way of saying it. He could be a judgmental, intolerant, rude, little shit—although he was a love when he'd been drinking. Puppyish in a way."

"Really?"

Aurora laughed. "Hard to imagine, I know, but yes. Vector used to say she'd never met a man she'd wished would become a sot before she met Snape. We used to try and get him drunk at end of term parties just so we could see that other side of him. He really had a wonderful smile…" She shook her head and threw the rose she held into the shadows. "Not in those last years, however. It occurred to me after he'd died that I hadn't seen him smile in years."

They'd reached the end of their circuit and found themselves back at their bench by the door.

"But enough about him, tell me, Hermione, what are your plans now? You can't hide in the castle anymore, the repairs are done. Are you going to finally join your friends in the MLE?"

Hermione grimaced. "Hardly. I don't want to be an Auror almost as much as they don't want me to be one either. I'm apparently too depressing for them these days. And don't forget I broke up with Ron, so that made a hash of everything. I don't know what I'll do with the rest of my life to be honest. I _do_ know that for now I've decided to leave the country. Take off for parts unknown. I have my war pension, and if I'm frugal, that should last a good while. There's nothing holding me here anymore."

Sinistra reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "You will be missed, for sure, but I can see the logic in searching out a place for yourself."

Hermione smiled. "Thank you."

"When would you leave?"

"Actually, tonight. Now, in fact. I just have to change and grab my things. I've a Portkey to Amsterdam. I thought I would start there. I've reservations at the Witch Hostel for a week and no ideas as to what happens after that."

"That sounds like a nice adventure. I almost wish I could run off with you. Tell me, did you ever fix those last problems with the Room of Requirement? Is it still chasing you around the castle?"

"It is, but remember, it was originally called the Come and Go Room. I don't think they _were_ problems. I think that was the original design. Something that was broken long before the room was nearly destroyed. I think popping up whenever and wherever it feels like is just its nature."

"You make it sound as if it's doing it intentionally."

Hermione laughed. "I swear it is." Seeing the woman's expression she shook her head. "Oh, I know, it's not. I researched all the charms myself, so I know it couldn't be. But still, there are days where I swear it has an agenda. Either that, or it's been possessed by the ghost of a big, sloppy puppy. I swear some days it's just galumphing around wanting me to toss it a ball." The two women laughed and then Hermione waved her hand. "The only mystery left is how it occasionally seems to appear in two places at once, but that's Filius' issue to work out. I'm done. In fact, I think I'm done as of now."

Sinistra smiled her understanding. "Then I'll leave you to say your goodbyes."

Hermione shook her head. "No, I think I'll just let them enjoy their night. I sent them all owls earlier. They can read my farewells in the morning post."

The older woman pulled her into a hug. "Then let me say mine. It's been an honor to have you as a student, to have you save my world, and to have worked alongside you this last year, especially. Good luck to you, Hermione. And please, do keep in touch."

"I will," she said, hugging her back. "I promise. And thank you. For everything."

The two women parted and with a last wave, Hermione slipped back into the Great Hall. Stopping before the bust of Severus Snape, she ran a fingertip down the deep crease between his eyes and whispered, "Goodbye, Professor. Thank you."

With a last look at the life she was leaving behind, she slipped out of the hall.

Up in her room, she made short work of changing out of her gown, stuffing it into her beaded bag along with her shoes and the combs she'd worn in her hair. Changing into the jeans, t-shirt, and trainers she'd left out for herself, she took one last look at the room that had been her home since she'd joined the renovation team. With a sad smile, she picked up the chipped flowerpot—a cheap, red-plastic Muggle thing—that was her Portkey. Looking at the room one last time, she sighed and left.

Out in the corridor, a door appeared directly across from hers, and she giggled. "I wouldn't have left without saying goodbye," she said to the door. She walked over and pushed it open, wondering what it had changed into this time. She smiled when she saw the public room of The Hogs Head. It was empty, but the sounds of laughter and the clink of mugs and glasses filled the air.

She smiled. "Having a private party of your own?" she asked.

In reply, a butterbeer appeared in the bar. She smiled and walked over, dropping her beaded bag and the red flowerpot on the stool next to her. "Why, thank you." She took a sip, licking the foam off her lip, and perused the pub through the mirror along the back wall. Repairing this broken room had been a labor of love and one of the most satisfying things she'd ever done. She was both gratified at her success, and sad for it to be over. Working here had been the only thing that had kept the crushing weight of grief at bay. Now she had to figure out what to do with her broken life.

She finished her drink and set the glass down on the bar. "Thanks again," she said. "You know? I think I shall miss you the most." She stood up and grabbed her beaded bag. "Wish me luck. I'm off to see if I can fix myself the way I fixed you." Picking up the green plastic flowerpot, she added, "Try not to give Filius fits, alright?"

Patting the bar, she headed out of the room and out of the castle.

She headed down toward Hogsmeade at a leisurely pace, reminiscing about all the walks into the Village as a student. It was worth one last look at that as well. She truly had no plans to ever come back, although she wasn't sure if she had any definitive plans to stay away, either. Strolling through the quiet streets, she mentally said goodbye to the shops and all the memories as well.

Stopping outside The Hogs Head, she raised her Portkey and tapped it, whispering, "_Portus_."

Her last thought before she felt her reality rip sideways was, '_Wasn't this red before?_'

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Hermione felt as if she'd been thrown into her parents' washing machine, first spinning this way, then spinning that, jerking backwards, and then snapping forward. She was close to vomiting up her champagne and butterbeer when she suddenly dropped straight down.

She almost caught herself. She stumbled several steps forward before gravity won, and she landed face down in a mud puddle.

"Watch it!" a voice hissed. "You've spattered mud on my best robes!"

Hermione looked up, unsuccessfully shoving a muddy hank of hair out her eyes. She stared at the woman scowling down at her. Trelawney? What was she doing in Amsterdam? Hermione had seen her laughing with Lavender Brown not that long ago. And those robes… Surely the party was still going on, why would she have changed into this horrid, paisley skirt?

"I'm so sorry! Please let me," she said as Trelawney fumbled her wand out of her sleeve. Flicking hers, Hermione tried to clean off the mess she'd made. Her magic seemed to balk and sputter, but then surged down her arm and out of her wand, erasing the mud, if not the horror.

"There you go," she said, staring at her wand and wondering what had happened there. "Again, I'm terribly sorry."

"You should be, my dear," Trelawney said in an uppity tone Hermione hadn't heard before. "You should be. You're interfering with an auspicious event. Destiny awaits. I have an appointment, and lives will change because if it. I have seen it! I mustn't be late."

Blinking several times, Hermione watched Trelawney shove open the door to The Hogs Head and disappear inside. Confused, she shook her head. Obviously, she'd not left Hogsmeade. "What the hell? What am I doing here?"

"Blocking the road would be my guess," a voice replied in a snide tone.

Hermione looked over her shoulder to see all of her worldly possessions scattered along the road behind her. "My bag! My things! My _books!_" She sat up, looking around for the owner of the voice. When she saw who was standing there, she let out a gasped, "My _god!_"

Severus Snape stared down at her in increasing alarm as she gaped at him.

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And we're off!

Thanks to my buddy, **HebeGB** for BritPick duties!


	2. Auspicious Timing

**AN**: I'm tickled pink that you all seem to be enjoying my Flowerpot-turner fic so far! Welcome back to all my old friends, and special hugs to all my new readers who haven't been tortured by my cliffhangers before. You're gonna love 'em.

Not.

Now, I'd like you to meet my favorite Snape of all that I've written so far…

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Hermione opened and closed her mouth repeatedly but nothing came out. Her brain was racing so fast it was actually making a sound, and from the escalating alarm on his face, she feared he could hear it through her skull.

Snape. Standing in the road, staring at her, was Severus Snape.

However, it wasn't _her_ Snape. This one was young. _Her_ age, if she had to guess. His face was the same, long beaky nose and squinty dark eyes, he had the same greasy, stringy hair, and the same skinny frame. His long, black robes were different, lacking their plethora of buttons—there were only four down the front and two on the cuff of each sleeve—and he didn't have the lines that age, tension, and bitterness had gouged into his features.

It occurred to her that he was somewhat homelier without them.

His body language was off as well. He didn't have the poise of his older self yet. His manner matched his features as they twitched back and forth from open curiosity, to what seemed like a self-conscious attempt to look indifferent.

"Why are you lying in the road dressed like a Muggle? That takes a bit of nerve in this day and age. Either that, or stupidity."

She shook her head, lost for words. It was so good to see him and, yet, patently _wrong_. Severus Snape was dead. "I don't…"

He grimaced and leaned closer, fastidiously sweeping his plain, black robes away from her as he did so. "Did you hit your head? Or are you always this… verbose?" he asked in an irritated voice. He kept staring at her, tilting his head first one way, and then another, as if trying to make sense of her. The effect made him look a bit like a confused bird.

Hermione realized she was smiling at him like an idiot, but couldn't help it. She couldn't wrap her mind around anything tangible that would help her understand what had happened. All she knew was that she wasn't in Amsterdam, there was muddy water dripping down her back, and Snape was alive and looking twenty years younger.

"I assure you, I am usually far more verbose. I-I must have hit my head. I think I'm dreaming…"

This fact seemed to alarm him even more. His brows swept down. "Do you require medical assistance?" he asked with sincere concern.

She shook her head, surprised at his reaction. "I-I'm not sure." Her head didn't hurt, but surely she must be concussed. Perhaps this wasn't Snape at all. Perhaps she was sitting in the mud smiling at a complete stranger while hallucinating.

He pulled out his wand and flicked it at her, and she recognized a Diagnostic Spell from the runes bouncing around in the air by her head. He tilted his head to the side again as he cancelled the charm and recast it. Frowning, he said, "It appears you're suffering from Temporal Displacement Syndrome."

"Temporal Displacement—"

The truth registered, and everything snapped into focus as to why she was sitting in the mud in Hogsmeade, staring up at very young-looking Professor Snape.

She'd gone back in time.

_Shit._

This was a disaster! This meant _everything_ she did could potentially change her future. Realizing exactly who she was interacting with, and how integral he was to her future, she moaned. "Oh, gods…"

He backed off a bit, but then leaned back in. "You've_ time-traveled_," he said, enunciating as if she was too stupid to know what Temporal Displacement Syndrome was.

"Have I?" she said, panicking. "How extraordinary."

She finally scrambled up off the road and realized the muddy water had her top clinging to her front in a rather unseemly manner. She could almost make out the pattern of the lace on her bra through the wet fabric. Mortified, she swept her wand from head to toe to clean the mud off herself and looked up to catch Snape's moue of disappointment. _That_ reaction was so disconcerting that she frantically busied herself with levitating her things into an orderly pile on the pavement in front of the tavern to try and hide her blushes.

"May I ask when you're from?" he said, flicking his wand and sending her books into a neat pile next to her grandmother's old lap desk.

"Best not," she replied, brushing mud off some of the books.

"It can't be that far off," he said, "judging from your clothing. Obviously the punk look is still the rage. What's that say on your t-shirt. Oasis? Don't know them. Have they had a hit?"

She blinked at him, trying to figure out what year it could be. Late seventies? Early Eighties? She didn't want to ask. In fact, she didn't want to speak with him at all.

"The future then," he continued as he helped her with her things. This last was said with a jarring tone of smug arrogance.

Mildly irritated by his tone, she asked, "What makes you so sure?"

He smirked at her, picking up a pair of her jeans and folding them before laying them on top of her growing pile. "Because you can't leap to the future and change your present. A person would only panic if they'd jumped to the past, and you're obviously in a panic." She could tell he thought his logic was impressive.

"Oh. Right."

"So have you?" Now he was all bald curiosity again.

"What?"

He huffed. "Changed the past?"

She sighed, bending down and picking up her beaded bag. The seams had exploded. "I think it stands to reason that the fact that I've interacted with anyone at all means I've changed things. In fact, perhaps it's best if you, you know, pretend you never saw me."

He went still, and for a moment his face held a shockingly eloquent expression of disappointment before it morphed into a familiar sneer. "Right. I can take a hint." He tossed her anorak back down onto the street and started walking away.

She blinked at the barely restrained note of dejection in his voice and realized she'd really stung him. He'd been nothing but helpful and understandably curious, and she'd gone and told him to shove off. It was painfully apparent that he was used to such treatment.

"Now, hang on," she called after him.

He turned back with a face full of surprise, defensiveness, and something that looked suspiciously like hope.

Good, heavens, how did he ever survive around Voldemort with a face like an open book?

"That's not how I meant it. I mean, well, _it is_, but… oh, bollocks." She walked over and stuck out her hand. He eyed it with confusion before he lifted his own. He had a surprisingly firm handshake. "Thank you, for helping. I do appreciate it. I just think it would be better if your future wasn't… _compromised_, you know? It's dangerous for you to talk to me. I could change—" Her thoughts skidded to a halt, and she clutched at his hand, causing him to look both alarmed and pleased. "Hang on, what am I saying? _What the hell am I saying?_"

Good lord! Why the hell _wouldn't_ she want to change this man's future?

She looked up at him. "Strike that! On second thought, if you would be so kind as to help me gather the rest of my things, I would be ever so grateful. In fact, I'll buy you a pint."

Pulling his hand back and planting his fists on his hips, he stared at her for a long moment before he said, "You _know_ me. We know each other in the future. Don't bother to lie, I can tell."

Wrinkling up her nose, she nodded her head.

"_How_?" he demanded. The note of curiosity was back, along with a good bit of excitement.

"Oh, well, yes, you see, you and I, um… In fact… No, that's no good. We were, ah… Oh, damnation." She folded her arms across her chest. This wasn't her professor; this was just a young man making demands of someone he'd just met. _Fight rude with rude_, she thought. "I'm not telling you."

He scowled and folded his arms as well. "I want an explanation."

"Well, you can't have one."

"I could find out if I wanted to, you know. I have ways," he said in a tone that quavered between threat, braggadocio, and petulance.

His manner startled her. It was so… unSnape-like. "Good lord. Are you _bragging_ about that? That's… Ew, no. Don't do that. You never bragged. You always had gravitas."

His eyebrows shot up. "I did?"

"Absolutely."

That gave him pause, and he chewed the idea over for a few moments. "Huh." He lifted his wand and went back to helping her move things. "How long did it take me to develop that?"

"I don't know. You had it when I met you."

"And that was in, what, eighty-two? Eighty-three?"

She giggled. "Nice try."

He snorted and together they set about clearing her possessions out of the road.

There was something innately amusing about having such a boyish Severus Snape help her with her things. He would be gracious one moment and invasive the next. He took care to help clean the mud off her things, and yet she caught him trying to read both her copy of Hogwarts, A History and her personal journal. She found her opinion of him bouncing from one extreme to another, and before long decided he was a somewhat charming pain in the arse. Like a decidedly less chirpy Colin Creevey.

He blushed magnificently when a pile of clothing fell apart in midair and left him with one of her bras hanging off the tip of his wand. She laughed and plucked it off. She laughed even harder when she found him holding up one of her thongs, obviously confused. "Are these knickers or some kind of slingshot?"

She swiped them out of his hands. "You know very well what they are. Show some manners."

He scowled at the rebuke, but she saw him smirking as he turned away.

"Why do you have a tent?" he asked holding it up.

"Long story."

He hoisted up her small strongbox and set it down with the last of her things. "That was heavy, what's in it?"

She sighed. "My life savings."

"Really? How peculiar. Why don't you keep it in the bank?"

"Because the Goblins hate me."

"Why?"

"Another long story." Seeing that they were all finished up, she turned and sat down on a stack of books, offering another stack for him to do the same. To her surprise, he did.

Leaning his elbows on his knees and fidgeting with his wand, he looked over his shoulder at her and asked, "Can you at least tell me how you ended up sprawled in the street with all of your things?"

She sighed. "I thought I was taking a Portkey to Amsterdam. I left from Hogsmeade, but it appears I didn't actually go anywhere."

"Portkey? So not a Time-turner accident, then? I thought for sure that was the case."

"Why? Are they common?"

"Well, that's what you usually read about when these things make the papers. In fact, I think it was a year ago that the Wizengamot was making noises about rounding up the last of them to prevent anymore mischief."

"If it's that common, do you think there's a chance someone at the Ministry would know how to send me back?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. It makes sense to me that there would be. But if it was just a wonky Portkey, maybe all you need to do is reverse it and try again."

"Do you think?" She jumped up and began digging through her things, finally coming up with the broken, green flowerpot. She narrowed her eyes at it. "This was red when I got it at the Ministry."

"Was it? Pass it here."

He examined it at length, casting several spells she didn't recognize. Finally, he handed it back, shaking his head. "That's not a Portkey at all."

"What is it?"

"A broken flowerpot." She rolled her eyes but he held up his hand. "What I'm saying is whatever magic was in it dissipated when you went further back than when it was cast."

"Oh. That makes sense. That must have been what happened to my bag. I'd cast an Undetectable Extension Charm on it."

"Well, it's buggered now," he said.

She sat down heavily on her books. "And so am I."

The door opened beside them and Trelawney stepped out, tottering off down the street in a daze, not paying either of them any mind.

"And so am I," he said with a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry. I have to go. I have an appointment."

She didn't like the way his face had changed. Gone were all traces of his earnestness and all that was left was a resigned despair. "What's wrong?" she asked.

He opened his mouth to reply, but closed it and shook his head. "Nothing. It's just that I have a job interview. And now I'm going to be a bit late." He stood up. "It was nice meeting you, Miss…?"

"Hermione," she said. "Call me Hermione."

"Hermione, then. Good luck with your problem. I wish you well."

"You too… Severus."

His eyes lit up for a fraction of a moment, and he smiled at her. Sinistra had been right. His smile changed his face completely. She felt a loss when it slid away and he frowned. "Right. Bull by the horns and all that rot." He turned and entered The Hogs Head, the door closing with a soft thump behind him.

She found herself smiling at the door. That had been a rather amazing experience. She'd just met a whole new Severus Snape, one she hadn't known existed. This hadn't been the professor she'd known at all. This had been an oddly charming and awkward guy, prickly and defensive one minute, and eager to show off the next. It was as if he was still straddling the line between child-like curiosity and the jaded cynicism he would later hone to an art form.

It occurred to her that Lily Evans had to still be alive. Surely that had been his defining moment, the thing that would harden him and forge the selfless, yet bitter, spy. She just didn't see how it was possible for him to be this openly curious and damned-near friendly otherwise.

She wondered if her interaction with him could have already affected the future. Could their one pleasant interaction make even a slight dent in that man's life?

She shook her head. That thought was not only highly improbable, but grossly narcissistic.

Turning, she watched Trelawney tottering down the street. The woman looked even more out of it than usual. Hermione frowned. The Divination teacher really was wearing an atrocious outfit. What on earth would have possessed her to wear it? Knowing Trelawney, she'd probably picked it out because her inner eye had told her to.

Hermione looked back down at her sundered beaded bag just as realization struck her with an almost palpable blow. She whipped her head around and stared at the door Snape had just passed through and then back down the street at Trelawney, fading out of view into the gloom of the night. _'You're interfering with an auspicious event. Destiny awaits. I have an appointment, and lives will change because if it. I have seen it! I mustn't be late…'_

"Oh, good lord! _Oh, my god!_"

She jumped up and started flapping her hands in the air in panic and then realized the full implication and started bouncing around in the street in jubilation.

"I think I've done it! I think I've just changed history!"

She danced in a full circle as she raced through the possible ramifications of Snape's _never hearing_ Trelawney's prophesy.

He was _saved!_ Harry's parents were saved! Sirius was saved! Remus, Tonks, and Fred were saved! Pesky Colin Creevey was _saved!_ Dumbledore! Her parents—

She stopped, sagging slowly to her stack of books. Her parents were saved. In fact, they were only a short Apparition away, off in London… tending their—what, twenty-month old daughter? Snape started at the school in eighty-one. But wait, hadn't he overheard the prophecy _before _Harry was born? Then maybe… No. That was Trelawney's job interview, for sure, and Snape hadn't eavesdropped on it.

She'd changed the future. She'd changed her _life_.

All of a moment, everything came crashing down on her. She had no one to share her joy. She was lost in the past with no one to turn to and nowhere to go.

She lifted her head and stared at the door to the tavern. But it seemed as if she _had_ made a friend.

Lifting up her beaded bag, she began carefully repairing it.

First things first.

:

Hermione sat in the tavern with two pints on the table before her. Her hands were shoved under her thighs and both of her legs bounced in tandem. She kept her head down and her hair in her face to avoid the rude stares of the other patrons. Aberforth paced behind the bar, growling with increasing menace at the men who were making rude comments. Apparently, in this day and age, not many witches frequented the place alone. Well, not many respectable witches anyway.

She was about to give it up as a bad job and bolt, when a door opened up along the gallery above. She looked up and saw the once and future Half-blood Prince walking dejectedly down the stairs. She jumped up, bumping the table and sloshing both drinks as she waved to him. He stopped and looked around before he continued over towards her, looking confused.

"What are you still doing here?" he asked.

She pointed to the table. "I owed you a pint," she replied.

He blinked several times and looked around again. "Have you been sitting here the whole time?"

She bit her lip and nodded.

He narrowed his eyes. "I bet you're a Gryffindor, aren't you."

She laughed and sat down. "Of course I am. Now, sit. Please."

He snorted and pulled the chair out. "A bossy one at that."

"You have _no_ idea."

"I have a glimmer of one. I'm a quick study." He reached for his glass and held it up. "Cheers."

She smiled and took a sip of hers as well, licking the foam off her lip. She would have preferred butterbeer, but she'd been too intimidated to order one, sure the other patrons would have laughed at her.

"So you looked a bit down in the dumps when you came out," she said. "Didn't you get the job?"

He sat back and sighed heavily. "I did."

"Really? But you look so unhappy. Don't you want it?"

His face soured. "No."

She grimaced. Her nosiness had filled in a good amount of his biography after he'd died, and she had an inkling of an idea about just how unhappy he was. "Then don't take it. You don't have to, you know."

He gave a sharp bark of a laugh. "How little _you_ know."

She winced. He looked the picture of abject misery. Impulsively, she reached out and laid her hand over his wrist. "I know a lot more than you would want me to, Severus. Nothing's cast in stone, you know. You _can_ choose for yourself."

He stared down at their hands and then his head snapped up to hers. The pleading desperation in his eyes cut her to the quick. "Is this it?" he asked. "Did you come back in time to change my fate?"

She grimaced and pulled her hand back. "I didn't intentionally come here. I'm not sure how I ended up here, but I did figure out that the future I came from is already changed, so there's nothing to stop you from changing as well. I say do what you want to do, not what people expect of you." She took a sip of her ale and carefully set it back down on the coaster wondering if she was causing more harm than good.

He tilted his head to the side. "I don't understand you."

She laughed. "Trust me, you're not the only one."

He gave her a hesitant, uncertain smile and then took another sip of his own. Nodding to the door, he asked, "Where are your things?"

She held up her beaded bag. "I fixed it. It won't hold, but it should last a day or two, long enough that I can get another."

He nodded. "So what are you going to do? Have you got a plan?"

"I'm going to see about a room at The Leaky for the night and then head to the Ministry in the morning and ask them for help."

Snape tossed his head to the side, angling it towards the stairs he'd just come down. "Professor Dumbledore is up there, you know. He might be able to help you."

She blanched. Of course Dumbledore was up there. She swallowed with difficulty. "I'd… just as soon ask the Ministry, thanks."

He narrowed his eyes at that. "Don't you like Dumbledore?" he asked in a quiet voice.

Sighing, she shook her head. "I respect him, yes, but like? Let's just stick with respect."

He kept her squirming under his gaze, and she almost missed the subtle invasion of his mind. Incensed, she slapped her hands over her eyes. "Stay out," she snapped. She took a moment to try and call up the rudimentary Occlumency shields she'd taught herself while on the run with Harry and Ron. When she had them more or less in place, she opened her eyes and glared at him.

He had the decency to blush, which did nothing for his looks. "Sorry." He leaned forward across the table. "But you can't just leave me hanging there. Why? I thought all you Gryffindors thought the world of him."

"We did. We do. I just… grew up, is all. Look, I don't think this is a good subject for us."

He scowled and sat back. "I thought you said your future was already gone."

"It is," she said. "But I don't know how different it will be. Please, I know it's frustrating, but…"

"Why are you really here," he said with a sneer.

Her eyes widened at his change of manner. Like an unruly child denied a treat, he was throwing a tantrum.

"Why did you wait for me? And don't give me any tripe about owing me a pint, this time. You'll be gone again this time tomorrow, so you can't pretend it's because you cared."

Good heaven's but he was a handful.

She shook her head. "I _did_ want to have a drink with you," she said. "Where I come from, I never got the chance."

His face softened, and he sat forward. "Then we aren't friends? Where you come from?"

She shook her head.

"Why not?" he asked. "I thought we were. You were so…" He waved his hand at the door, rather than supply the missing word. "You said you know me." He looked down at his glass. "You don't appear to hate me."

Her heart went out to him. He was obviously completely confused as to why she was being nice. Her sitting in a puddle grinning at him probably had thoroughly flummoxed him.

"I don't. Lots of people don't hate you in your future," she said ambiguously. She couldn't say a lot of people _liked_ him. That would be pushing things too far. He'd always had a knack for knowing a lie when he'd heard one.

"Then why aren't we friends?" he asked in a soft voice that didn't hide the disappointment.

She sighed. "Several reasons," she said. "First, you're a bit older than me than the present situation would have you think."

"Really? How much older?"

She shook her head and flicked his question away. "Secondly, you always had too much on your mind to entertain the thought."

He scowled. More than that, he sat back, folded his arms across his chest, and scowled _ferociously_. "I'm your bloody teacher, aren't I? That's how you know me."

She blinked at his lightning-quick deduction and knew her face had given the truth away.

He snorted and shook his head. "But I couldn't have been for long, you're what, nineteen? Twenty? I start next term, so that would make you a… fifth-year? Sixth? I honestly don't remember you from when I was there, sorry."

He scrunched up his face. "Damn. It's a paradox, isn't it? I suppose this does complicate things." He gave a firm nod of his head. "Very well. I promise not to treat you differently from any other student until you tell me you're back from this little adventure. Then we can have another pint on me, alright?" He gave her such an earnest smile, almost Ron-like in its hopefulness, that she found herself smiling back.

"It's a date," she said with a laugh, lifting her glass and holding it out.

He grinned at her, looking slightly dazed and giddy as he reached for his glass and clinked it against hers. She thought she might have seen his chest puff out just a bit.

She remembered Aurora's words only a little while before, saying how there'd never been any other girl. She flushed and returned his smile, euphoric and a little daunted at the notion that Severus Snape had just scored his first date… with _her_.

His smile broadened as he sipped his ale. He really did look much better when he smiled.

Beyond his shoulder, the door opened and a tumble of young men came in.

Snape turned, still smiling, to see what all the noise and bother was.

Hermione watched the grin freeze on his face as Snape locked eyes with Sirius Black, flanked by Remus Lupin, James Potter, and Peter Pettigrew.

The temperature in the room plummeted.

:

* * *

*cackles madly*

:

**AN2**: I can pretty much guarantee I will fall behind on reviews, since home schooling is in full swing, this sucker needs heavy editing on the fly, and Guild Wars 2 is coming out in a few days. My dork card is full.

Also? This story was edited while the song Gangnam Style was stuck in my head. Everyone must listen to it so they can be tortured too, and then you must blame MistressBlackSnape.


	3. Confronting the Past

**AN**: Are we all settled in? Yes? Good. Onward...

* * *

:

Hermione set her glass down slowly as the group by the door made their way towards them. She had no idea what to do, but felt in her bones this wasn't going to end well.

Sirius Black was all swagger and cocky good looks, but the glint in his eye was that of a predator spotting his prey.

James Potter was Harry all over again, only slightly taller. The eyes were different, of course, not just because of the color and shape, but the expression in them. Hermione had never seen Harry look so arrogant.

Pettigrew made her want to vomit. He didn't look nearly as meek and pathetic as he'd done when she first had seen him. However, the seeds were there in his expression—the idiot grin, as if he couldn't wait to start bouncing around, screaming '_Fight! Fight!_'

As for Remus… He looked younger, certainly, but already he had the hangdog, worn-out look of a man whose future has been narrowed down to only the bleakest chance of hope. He kept looking nervously up the stairs and then anxiously back at his friends.

"Sirius, not now," he said. "You're supposed to be here for support."

"Go, on Mooney," Sirius replied. "You're late for your interview. We'll just wait for you here."

"James," Remus pleaded. "Keep a leash on him."

"Sirius is a big boy, Remus. I'm sure there's nothing to worry about. After all, we're all adults here, aren't we? Go on up. Dumbles is waiting."

Snape rose up out of his chair and backed away from it as they approached. He stood, wand in hand and spine straight, eyeing them down with naked contempt. Gone were the charming smiles, boyish uncertainties, and mercurial flashes of sullen petulance. This Snape was all fury and violence waiting to be unleashed.

"Yes, go on, Lupin," he said with a malicious sneer. "I'm sure you've probably earned extra consideration for being late. However, I must ask, just what is it you're hoping to do at Hogwarts? As far as I know, they already have a reliable display of the lunar cycles. I know Dumbledore always made special allowances for you…," he shifted ever so slightly, "but will the Ministry? After all, it's a matter of what's best for the children, isn't it?"

Remus blanched, and Hermione scowled at Snape. Remus had been a decent man, and she knew how hard a time he'd had of it, scrounging for work all those years. Her heart went out to him.

"And just what are _you_ doing here, Snape?" Sirius said with feigned politeness. "Don't tell me _you_ had the nerve to apply? You know they have a dress code for staff, don't you? You'd have to actually _bathe_, and the gods only know what would happen then. Imagine the work the poor house-elves would have to suffer, trying to scrub the ring from the tub. Then, of course, there's the matter of your being a _Death Eater_. Surely the Ministry would have something to say about that as well?"

He came closer, flanked by two of his friends, all of them gripping their wands. "Where's my brother, Snivellus?" he asked in a soft voice.

"I've no idea. However, after listening to his endless complaints about you, I can easily assume he's avoiding you," Snape drawled in reply.

"Regulus has been missing for over nine months, you bastard. I'm only going to ask you politely once more, and then we're going to _take_ the answer from you."

"It would be amusing to see you try."

"You're cockier than usual, Snape," said James. "I think torturing Muggles might have given you a false sense of your own prowess. In fact, I think you need a lesson in humility." His face, so like Harry's, roiled into an expression of cruelty and hatred that Hermione found utterly revolting. "I'll just start with humiliation, and we'll see where we go from there…"

All of them lifted their wands in an almost elegant gesture of synchronized intent.

"That's enough!" Hermione shouted, jumping up from the table. "What the hell is the matter with all of you?"

"What have we here?" James said with a laugh. "Snape, have you got a girlfriend? And look, Padfoot, she's dressed like a Muggle, to boot. How rebellious…"

"So she is. Hello, tasty, what's your name?"

"None of your damned business," she snapped. "Why don't you clear off and leave him alone."

"Oh, careful love. Snivellus here doesn't much like being defended by girls. The last one that did so never forgave him for the terrible things he called her. Did she, James?"

Hermione darted a glance at Snape to see him staring daggers at her.

"No. Not at all," James drawled. "Still cries about it upon occasion, but then, I do my best to comfort her, and she forgets him quick enough."

"I just bet she does. I bet all that comforting helped lead to my little godson or goddaughter. Which leads me to think I might have to thank you, Sniv." Snape's face twisted in fury, and Sirius smirked. "No. On second thought, I don't think I will."

Hermione was appalled. These were the men Harry had wished to emulate? They couldn't have been farther from Harry if he'd been born on the moon.

Sirius turned to her again, unashamedly looking her up and down as he reached out to touch her hair. "Lovely. Do you charm it to look like this?"

She jumped away from him, snatching up her beaded bag and scooting closer to Snape.

"Oh, you're a skittish colt aren't you? But I'm afraid, if you want a real man, you're running the wrong way. I'm pretty sure you're barking up the wrong tree completely with that one. He doesn't much like your kind at all. Not just because he thinks of you as less than human, a belief I don't subscribe to at all, by the way. No, my misled and mislaid brother has told me some tales—under duress, of course—and it seems our Snivvy now plays on the wrong team literally _and_ metaphorically."

Hermione's mouth dropped open, just as Snape's restraint finally snapped. He jabbed his wand at Sirius's face. "Take that back! Take it back, or I will sew your filthy mouth shut!"

Sirius held his empty hands out. "Is it a _lie?_ But my own brother told me… before he _disappeared_." Black's face darkened, and his eyes went flinty. "Last chance to tell us where he is willingly, Snape… No? Pity. I might have seen you in a different light if you had. Now I've no need to be discreet about you rubbing up against some Muggleborn bird in a pub, do I? That might not go well for you. But then, I suppose you'll just tell your mates that was lie as well, won't you? It probably won't be difficult to slither back in to their good graces. I heard you've had to do that rather a lot. Tell me, do you use a Cushioning Charm to spare your boney knees when you suck… _up?_"

"Go to hell, Black!" Snape bellowed, throwing a hex. It bounced off the shield James threw up and ricocheted around the room, as did the hex Snape deflected from Sirius, and the next one from James. Tables began to explode into fountains of splinters as they went at each other, and patrons scrambled to get out of the way.

Hermione danced behind Snape and threw up a shield that sizzled and died under the onslaught of the Marauder's spells. Pettigrew threw a jinx at Snape's legs from behind a broken table, and she blocked it before it hit. She was about to throw a Blasting Hex at him when the room rang out with a mighty shout.

"_ENOUGH!_"

Everyone froze in an attitude of combat. Aberforth was standing on the bar with his wand aimed in their direction, but his attention was on his brother. Hermione paled as she saw Albus Dumbledore in the flesh, walking slowly down the stairs with a distraught Remus behind him. He walked among them, clearly ignoring everyone but Snape.

"Young man," he said in a quiet voice. "I've just hired you to be a representative of my school. To shape and mold young minds. What does it say that not half an hour later I find you dueling in a pub like a hooligan?"

The Headmaster reached into his sleeve and pulled out a scroll of parchment. "I've yet to forward your contract to the Ministry, and Professor Slughorn has already agreed to stay another year if I cannot find a suitable replacement. I'm under no pressure, and if you feel you don't really need the position, then," he held it out to him, "You can always take it back. That is, if you don't think there would be any unpleasant consequences? A young man in your position must have obligations, debts to pay, and the like…"

Snape went even paler, and Hermione was close enough to hear him swallow. With clenched fists, he choked out, "My apologies, Headmaster. It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't," Dumbledore said, his voice softer than silk. "You're dismissed. I will see you in my office tomorrow for your orientation."

Without a backward glance at anyone, Snape bolted from the tavern. Dumbledore turned and gave each of the Marauders a meaningful stare and then turned toward Hermione. She bit her lip and gave him a nervous stare.

"Do I know you, young lady?"

"No, sir."

He stared at her for a long time before he gave her a gentle smile. "Not yet, _hmm?_ There's time to get to know you in the future, I daresay." He turned to his brother still standing on top of the bar. "What's your view of things?"

"I'm thinking people need to either buy a drink, or clear off."

"Quite right," Dumbledore replied. "Quite right." He looked at Hermione, and his eyes twinkled. She felt herself tear up; it had been so long since he'd twinkled at her. "Allow me to escort you out," he said with a smile.

"Yes, sir," she replied. He held out his arm, and when she took it, they left together. He never said a single word to the four left standing around like fools.

Once outside, he stopped and looked up at the starry sky. "It's always amazing to contemplate how vast the universe is, isn't it? It makes us realize how small and insignificant we are. And yet, even one tiny action on our part can change the world." He lowered his head and looked at her. "Don't you agree?"

She nodded mutely, afraid to speak.

He smiled and patted her hand, pulling his arm away from her. "And now, I bid you good night."

"Sir!" she blurted as he turned to walk away. "About Professor Snape…"

He pivoted back to her and looked at her over his glasses. "Hmm?"

"He's… He's a good man."

Dumbledore nodded and smiled. "So he is."

She blinked, confused. "Then you're aware of that already?"

He shook his head. "No. I hadn't a clue until you told me. Nevertheless, I do now. Farewell. Until we meet again."

She watched him walk off up the road toward the school and shook her head. Even after swearing she knew everything there was to know about that man, he was still a complete mystery.

Hearing angry voices approaching the door from the other side, she gripped her wand and Apparated out of sight.

:

* * *

:

Hermione woke up with a crick in her neck. The beds at The Leaky Cauldron were far lumpier than she remembered, but they were also far less expensive. She could get used to this economy.

Rolling out of the bed, she wandered into the bathroom and began her morning ablutions. Choosing her plainest robes in a hope she might not stick out too much, she headed downstairs to the dining area where she enjoyed a greasy meal and a paper. There was a small article announcing the two newest Hogwarts Professors, Severus Snape and Sibyl Trelawney, thus confirming her suspicions. Her breakfast turned into a cold lump as she read the proud birth announcements of so many of her classmates. She set it aside finally.

She'd been off by a year. Harry wouldn't be born for another five weeks, although Ron was a chubby three-month-old. She herself was barely nine months old.

She'd got the dates wrong because she'd been confused about when Snape had been hired. Obviously, in her timeline, he hadn't stayed for the interview. He'd been caught eavesdropping on Trelawney's interview and had been tossed out, not actually getting hired until the next year after he'd turned to Dumbledore to save Lily.

However, thanks to her disruption, he hadn't overheard that all-important fragment of the prophecy and therefore hadn't managed to muck up his own initial interview. It appeared obvious to her in hindsight, that Dumbledore knew full well what Snape was mixed up in. So why had he hired him?

It all boggled the mind. She'd spent long hours with her journal, trying to come to terms with the changes she'd wrought, repeatedly telling herself that the good outweighed the bad. However, she couldn't help but feel that the bad was… well, still pretty bad. Instead of a life devoted to the cause, tormented by his culpability in the death of his childhood friend, it seemed she'd condemned Snape to a life of other torments. He was still a Death Eater, but now with no reason to turn, and he was still bullied like a firstie by the Marauders. Despite her upending history by falling into a puddle at his feet, he had still ended up trapped into being a spy. Only now, he was spying for the wrong side exclusively and not fooling anyone.

And there were other things that left her uneasy. The fact that Harry was now free to grow up in the bosom of a loving family was offset by the fact that he was now at risk of turning into an arrogant toe-rag just like his father. And Sirius! Good lord. She shuddered, remembering the proprietary way he'd reached out to touch her. Obviously, sexual harassment still had a long way to go in 1980. Remus? Kind, gentle Remus, had gone running for help, rather than stand his ground against his friends. Again. Then there was Pettigrew… What a loathsome little bastard he was, hiding behind the others and casting jinxes like a coward. She wished she hadn't hesitated when she'd attempted to blast him out of his shoes. The harm that could come from returning to her own time and leaving _him_ unrevealed left her breathless.

She sighed. Without a doubt, she'd saved some lives. Nevertheless, there were still far too many loose ends. The biggest being Voldemort himself. Obviously, she needed to do more to ensure those lives stayed saved.

Shaking her head, she got up from the table, paid for her room and her meal, and then headed out into Diagon Alley. Spinning in place, she Apparated to the gates of Hogwarts. If this war was going to be fought again, then she needed to warn them what they were up against the first time around so they would get it right.

:

It took ages before she saw Hagrid's bushy head appear. He looked the same, but for fewer gray hairs in his beard, and she had to stop herself from grinning at him. He didn't know her at all, and she might actually come off as suspicious rather than friendly. Although, she couldn't really remember Hagrid ever being suspicious.

"Hullo there, what can I be doin' fer ya?"

"I was wondering if it was possible to speak with the Headmaster," she said with her best, disarming smile. "Is he's available? I'm sure I won't take up much of his time. It's a very important matter and I didn't have time to send an owl."

"Come on in," he said, unlocking the gate. "I'm sure he'll make time fer ya. He always seems to be available when it's somethin' important and what with it being the summer and all... What did you say your name was?"

She sighed, wondering how much of a mess she was making of things. "Granger. Hermione Granger."

" 'Ermione, eh? Thas a pretty name. I'm Rubeus Hagrid, but most folks just call me Hagrid."

"Thank you, Hagrid," she said, setting off after him.

Once they reached the school, she walked along the halls beside him, keeping an ear on his rambling conversation about slugs and an eye on the subtle differences in the school. Here, there was a statue, where before there had been a suit of armor. Over there, she saw the painting of the Cavaliers, whereas in her time it had been closer to the entrance.

They made their way to the Headmaster's office, and Hagrid gallantly gestured to a bench that hadn't been there in her time. "If you'll just wait here, I'll see if he's got a moment t'spare yeh."

"Thank you."

She sat down and laid her beaded bag in her lap, folding her hands on top of it. About fifteen minutes passed before the Gargoyle jumped to the side again and the stairs began to turn. She stood up, expecting Hagrid, and was surprised to see black robes sweep into view. When Snape saw her, he went still, although the stairs kept him moving. The flattening of his eyes and mouth made it plain he was lost for a way to avoid her and steeling himself to endure. It was a look one could have caught on any given day before he started class. After his humiliation last night, she could understand why he would be reluctant to speak with her.

They stared at each other until he came to a stop at the bottom. Finally, he heaved a sigh and came forward.

"Hello, Professor," she said with an uncertain smile.

He scowled. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd be at the Ministry trying to figure out how to get home."

She grimaced. "I will, after I speak with the Headmaster."

He scowl only deepened. "I thought you weren't of a mind to do so."

"I wasn't. However, after you left so precipitously last night, he said a few things to me that made it seem as if he knew I was from another time already. I rethought my stand on the issue."

He pursed his lips, plainly mollified, but not pleased. He leaned his face into hers, staring at her with narrowed, dark eyes. She threw up her Occlumency shields again, and his eyes narrowed even further. "Who are you?" he demanded in a soft voice.

She tilted her head. "I'm Hermione," she replied.

"Hermione _Granger_, according to that oaf, Hagrid. I'll ask you one last time, who are you _really?_"

She frowned at him. "Why wouldn't you believe me?"

"Why should I?" he snapped. "You've told me precious little."

"But I _did_ tell you my name," she said.

His lip curled, and he pulled his face away. "You're not in the _book_," he spat. "I checked. There are only seven recorded Hermiones in the history of Hogwarts, and the most recent one would make you two hundred and twenty-_four_."

"That's odd…" she said, frowning in thought.

"Unless you're not actually _born_ yet," he said with obvious distaste at that thought, "you don't exist."

"But I am! I should be in there…" Fear crept up along the underside of her skin, and she sat down hard. "There must be some mistake. Or—" She looked up at him in horror. "What if I erased myself? What if the other me isn't here anymore?" She pressed a hand to her heart and another to her mouth to try and suppress the rising panic. "What else have I done? What else have I changed?"

He grimaced and looked about, running a hand through his greasy hair in an aggravated gesture. With a sigh, he dropped down onto his haunches and looked her in the eye. "Look… I don't know anything about these sorts of things," he said. "Ask the Headmaster, since you're here anyway. There could be a plausible explanation that I'm unaware of."

She nodded repeatedly, trying to make his words more reassuring than they were. The stairs started again, and they both jumped to their feet. She reached out and clasped his wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Thank you," she blurted. "I'm not sure I got a chance to say that last night." He looked distinctly uncomfortable already, so she decided little could be lost by making it worse. "I didn't get to say goodbye last night either," she said. "I'd still like to meet for that other pint someday."

He gave her a piercing look, obviously confused and unsure, then nodded, squirming slightly as Hagrid bounded into view. "Good luck, Hermione," he said in a quiet voice, pulling his arm away slowly. "I'll look for you in the future."

He turned and started off down the hallway, his robes fluttering around him. She watched as his long-legged stride quickly opened the distance between them. When she reached the count of six, he looked back over his shoulder. She gave him a last little wave and then let the stairs carry her up.

:

* * *

And there you go...


	4. The Quantum Orphan

**AN:** So sorry that I didn't reply to a SINGLE review last chapter because I was running full-tilt all day. To make up for it, I give you this chapter twelve hours early. It's a long one. Qualifying Statement: Contains the best explanation of magical time travel paradoxes you are going to get from a chick who does hair for a living. *nods*

* * *

Dumbledore's office was the same as it had been when she'd first seen it. Fawkes trilled at her on his perch, looking a little worse for wear, and around the room gadgets and gizmos whirled and twirled and sent up a pleasant chiming. The portraits were nearly all empty, only those closer to the high ceiling seemed to have occupants, but they looked as if they'd been asleep for ages. Dumbledore looked wonderful in his bright purple robes with fanciful orange piping. They hurt the eyes but were somehow more reassuring for it. Standing here before him, it was incredibly hard to remember how much she'd resented this man just a few weeks ago.

"Come in, Miss Granger! How lovely to see you again. Sherbet lemon?"

"Yes, please!" She came over to the desk and reached for the offered sweets.

"Really? Then you must take two!"

She laughed and did take two, popping them both in her mouth at once and savoring the tart memories before she tucked them into her cheek.

He smiled like a proud parent, and then folded his hands together atop his desk and said, "What may I do for you, Miss Granger?"

She sighed. "I'm not sure, really, but I do know there is something I need to do for you. You see, due to some circumstances I've yet to work out, I've gone back in time."

"Yes, I know."

"You do?" she asked, her heart skipping a beat. Her mind swiftly leapt to several possible conclusions. Was this all meant? Had he been aware this would happen? Had he set it up somehow? Her fleeting hope was dashed by his next words.

"Yes, Mr. Snape just told me."

"Oh. Of course. Right." She sighed. "Where to start…? You see, I've had experience with Time-turners before, and have been well-versed in the consequences of meddling, so I'm at a loss as to how to handle this situation I've landed in. You see, things were well and truly meddled with right from the start. It seems that within five minutes, I mucked up my entire timeline. It's a total wash, which is a good thing in some ways, and not so much in others."

His eyebrows rose and he leaned forward, looking almost excited. "That bad?"

"That bad, or that good, depending on which way you look at things."

"Fascinating. Five minutes you say? That sounds like very suspicious timing."

"I thought so too. It was as if I'd been sent to that exact moment on purpose."

"By whom, do you think?"

Hermione grimaced as the sweeties began to fizz. Flicking them out of her cheek and crunching them up, she held a delicate hand to her mouth and forced herself to hurry up and swallow. "Sorry."

She took a deep breath and continued. "You might think I'm daft, but the main suspect is actually the school itself. Or at least the Room of Requirement." When he looked confused, she added, "The Come and Go Room?"

Dumbledore seemed a bit nonplussed at that. "Really? How extraordinary. You think the school intended for you to go back and change the past?"

"I do. Sort of. Mostly." She winced. It did sound rather farfetched when voiced aloud.

"I would love for you to explain."

She sat back and looked around the room, trying to figure out where to begin. "I'm not sure how much worse I'll make things. You see, in the future—that is, the one I come from which might not be the same anymore—the school sustains a bit of damage, and I was one of the people that helped with repairs. I worked in many areas, but my primary duty was to fix the Room of Requirement—that's what we call it. The only thing I couldn't seem to fix was its new-found habit of popping up randomly all over the castle. Occasionally it would be sighted in two places at the same time. Usually, it would appear wherever I was. I grew rather fond of it, actually. Anyway, on my last night at the castle, I stopped at the room one last time. I had my Portkey in hand and set it down. It was altered when I picked it back up again."

"In what manner?"

"It changed color. It was just a Muggle flowerpot when I bought it at the Ministry—red plastic, with a crack along the side. But when I went to use it, it was green, although it did still have the same crack."

"And you didn't notice when you picked it back up? Is it possible it was tampered with after you left the room?"

She shook her head. "I didn't really notice it until I activated it, but looking back, it definitely changed when I was in that room. I didn't see anyone else after that, and never set it down again. I held it all the way down to the village. I admit I had a lot on my mind, but there was no opportunity for anyone else to have tampered with it."

"Fascinating." He looked up at the walls, as if seeking advice, but the portraits were all still empty. He lowered his gaze and looked at her over his half-moon glasses. "You saw no one at all? Not even in the school?"

"No one. I walked out of the room and down to the village without seeing anyone at all."

"And what time was this?"

"About half-past nine."

"And yet it was only eight when I saw you."

"Was it?" She frowned. She hadn't noticed.

"Tell me, what you were doing before you left the room."

"Drinking a butterbeer."

"Of course you were. And what were your final words? I'm sure a sentimental young lady such as yourself would wish to say 'Adieu,' even if it was to a room.'"

She felt herself blush. "I might have done."

"And the words, Miss Granger?"

She squinted her eyes and looked over at Fawkes, cocking her head to the side as she tried to remember. "To the best of my knowledge, my exact words were, 'I think I shall miss you the most. Wish me luck. I'm off to see if I can fix myself the way I fixed you.'"

"I see," Dumbledore said, nodding knowingly. "Well, then. That changes everything."

"Does it?"

"Of course."

"What?"

He waved a hand. "Everything, as you said. Within five minutes, you had shifted your entire future. But not just yours, the school's, or at least the Come and Go Room's. I would venture to say it was no more satisfied with its existence than you were, so it took steps."

She sat forward. "Then the school is sentient? Filius said it wasn't."

Dumbledore shook his head. "No. Of course it's not. It's just a building. Unless, of course, it _is_, in which case it is a very unique building."

"Well, which is it?" she said with a scowl.

"Why must it be one or the other?"

Blowing out a frustrated breath, she sat back. "If your theory is correct, I was sent back to change the past. Well, I have done. However, there are a few things you should know before I leave."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I've definitely changed the part where the school ends up damaged—at least in my timeline—but there are still some very messy bits. Serious loose ends, so to speak. Only I'm not exactly sure what the consequences are if I tell you. I was up most of last night trying to work out why I even still exist. I mean, if I've changed my future, then who gives me the Portkey in the future? It's an imperfect loop, you see? And what would the consequences be for meddling even more? You need to know what I know, but will it still be true if I tell you?"

He nodded and leaned back, folding his hands across his belly. "You need to speak with Reginald Bode over in the Department of Mysteries for a fuller explanation. I fear I never understood Quantum Arithmancy. I always was pitiful at those sorts of calculations. It's all multiple realities and every choice being taken at once, sort of thing. Basically it comes down to a theory that reality splits whenever we face a choice, and when magic is involved, such as time-travel, it splits into singularities. It's all very confusing. Somewhere there is a Hermione Granger than never came back in time and her future continues apace. Then there is a Miss Granger that came back, but didn't share a drink with Mr. Snape last night. And another one that did that, but didn't come to see me today. You see? Lots of alternatives, lots of realities."

"So I won't poof out of existence if I tell you the future?"

"I think the fact that you already changed it so drastically and haven't means you won't. You already have an anchor here in this time. A singularity that is holding you in place."

She nodded several times, feeling immensely reassured. "Then I have _a lot_ to tell you."

"Do go on."

Leaning forward, she placed her elbows on her knees and jumped to the heart of the matter. "First, there's the matter of the Horcruxes. They're still out there, and you can't kill Voldemort without destroying them first."

She watched as Dumbledore's eyes widened in unconcealed shock. "You know about…? Horcruxes? Plural? How many?"

"By my time he had several of them, although I'm not sure offhand how many there would be right now. I would need time to work it all out."

Hermione now saw a very different Dumbledore behind the desk. This one didn't twinkle at all. In fact, he was a bit scary. He sat back in his chair and narrowed his eyes at her over the top of his glasses. "Miss Granger, perhaps you would do me the honor of telling me exactly how _you_ think your future was derailed."

"Oh, certainly. You see, when I landed at Professor Snape's feet yesterday, I delayed him unintentionally and prevented him from overhearing Trelawney's prophecy and reporting it to Voldemort. You see in my time, he had, but he hadn't heard the entire thing. Your brother caught him and tossed him out, so he only gave the Dark Lord half of it."

"He gave it to…" Dumbledore's eyes took on a chill that promised imminent retribution.

"Wait, don't jump to any conclusions yet!" She flapped her hands, frustrated by how much information she needed to impart. She decided to just blurt out as much as possible and began to speak quickly.

"I'll give you the short version: In my history, Voldemort decided that the prophecy pertained to Harry Potter, Lily and James' baby—he's due next month. Snape switches sides and begs you to protect the Potters from the Dark Lord."

"Really?" Dumbledore sounded almost scathingly skeptical of that last line.

Hermione squirmed a bit in her chair and mumbled, "Okay, just her, initially."

"Why? What did he get out of it?"

This last was said without much inflection, but it was clearly obvious that he thought Snape incapable of doing something for the right reasons. Once again, she found herself seeing the opinions the man had had to live with on a daily basis and found herself growing incensed. The idea that even Albus Dumbledore judged him wrongly started a slow burn in her gut.

"Why? Because he loved her. What he was trying to get out of it was her safety. Unfortunately, that didn't exactly work out."

The Headmaster frowned. "He's in love with Lily Potter? When did this happen? I wasn't aware of any connection between the two of them since they were too young for it to matter. I can't say I'm pleased to hear about him carrying on with a married woman. It shows a remarkable lack of maturity on both of their parts."

"He's not carrying on with anyone! He's always loved her. They grew up together. He loved her then, and he loves her now. How could you not know that? Professor Sinistra said it was obvious. Lily Evans was the only good thing in his life when he was young, and she meant the world to him. He did everything he could to protect her when he found out she was a target."

She stopped and drew in several breaths before waving her hand and continuing. "Anyway, you helped hide them in a Secret Kept house, but Sirius Black came up with what he thought was a clever plan and decided not to be their Secret Keeper. He thought he was too obvious a choice. Peter Pettigrew was asked instead, only he sold them out to Voldemort."

"Pettigrew?" This was said with such disbelief that Hermione found her annoyance levels skyrocketing.

"Yes, Pettigrew. If he's not already a Death Eater, he will be soon. Please make a note of those three points. Snape has the potential to be really good, Pettigrew, to be really bad, and Black is considered clever and is really an idiot.

"Right. Back to my version of events. Voldemort kills Lily and James, and tries to kill Harry, but it backfires. Harry lives, and Voldemort gets snuffed. But only for a while, he can't actually die—you know, Horcruxes. Okay, skip forward in time; Snape is now utterly loyal to you but no one knows it—that was his choice—Black is in prison for killing bunches of people that Pettigrew is actually responsible for, and no one knows it, and the Potters are dead but their boy survived, and everyone knows it.

"You dump Harry on his Muggle aunt's doorstep—she treats him like shite, by the way—Pettigrew turns into a rat and becomes the Weasley's pet—unbeknownst to them—and hides out there for years, waiting for his master to return, which he eventually does.

"Then everything starts to go to hell. Voldemort gets more powerful every year. Harry and his friends—that's where I come in—end up in the middle of everything all the time. Each school year gets worse, with students being killed and Harry being targeted. By sixth-year, you take it into your head to put on a cursed ring, trying to see your sister, but only manage to fatally harm yourself. Snape can only slow the curse down, not save you, so you come up with a clever plan to have him to kill you—which really screws with _everybody's_ head—because you thought this would free the Elder Wand to be claimed by Harry. Only Draco disarms you before Snape can kill you, which also gives mastery to Harry because Harry had already defeated Draco months before, or something—that theory is a bit crap, but we don't have a better one—and Voldemort kills Snape thinking he had mastery, so that plan was a total wash."

"In the end, Harry defeats the Dark Lord using a Power-He-Knows-Not—which was love, by the way—and when the sun comes up, half the school's been destroyed, the Room of Requirement has been gutted by Fiendfyre, and nearly everyone in the tale is dead. It's like a ghastly last act of Hamlet. Remus, Tonks, Fred, Snape, Black, Pettigrew, you, Mad-eye Moody, Dobby, Colin Creevey, Cedric Diggory, Charity Burbage, Rufus Scrimgeour, Bathilda Bagshot, good lord, I could list them all day."

She rubbed at her temples. "It would seem, in the end, even the school thought the price had been too high, and thus—Ta Da!—here I am." She blew out a breath and sat back, dropping her arms to her sides

Dumbledore sat back as well, staring at her without any expression. "Thank you, Miss Granger," he said finally. "I sincerely appreciate you telling me all this."

She grimaced. "I'm just hoping to head off more misery if I can. I stopped the Potters from dying, that's a start. The rest is up to you. I thought if you had all the information ahead of time, that should help rather a lot. All I ask is that, please, don't use children to fight this time. If Voldemort never hears the prophecy, he'll have no need to torment Harry all throughout his school years." Finally coming to the decision she'd debated most of the night, she tugged her bag open and dug around in it. Pulling out a leather-bound book, she placed it on the desk. "This is my personal journal. It starts in my first year and continues up until last night. Read it. It's all there, the Horcruxes, where they are, what they are, and how to destroy them, who did what, who died when, who you can trust, and who you can't. Read it and come up with a better answer."

Biting her lip, she added, "Just ignore the bits about Ron. Unfortunately, there's a lot of that. Oh, and Lockhart. Skip ahead there, please. That was just embarrassing. Or perhaps you could reward me by never hiring him. He was a fraud anyway."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled for a moment as he picked the journal up and stroked the cover, but then the spark died again. "Miss Granger, this is an incredible gift you've given me. I can't even begin to express my gratitude, nor my awe. Words fail in the face of such sacrifice."

"Well, a little sacrifice is worth it to prevent my future. I'm looking forward to going back and seeing the changes that have been made."

His eyes widened, and he tilted his head to look at her over his glasses. "You have a way of returning to your time?"

She scrunched up her face. "Well, not me personally. I was hoping the folks that work in the Time Room could arrange it."

Dumbledore's face fell and he let out long sigh that made Hermione's stomach twist into knots even before he started shaking his head. "Miss Granger, I'm not aware of any means we have of returning you to your future. I admit I don't know everything, but I'm a bit better informed than most Wizards. And even if we could, I fear the changes you would find won't be as pleasant as you seem to hope."

That made her blink. "Why? What do you mean?"

"I thought you understood. You'd said you had experience with time-turners." He sighed, patting the leather cover. "I'm afraid you destroyed your future completely. Even if you hadn't interrupted Mr. Snape's actions yesterday, things had already changed irrevocably. If you return, there will be nothing left of the life you led. Nothing at all. You will be as out of place in that time as you are here in this one."

"I-I don't understand..."

"There's no way to put this gently… Your other self—the Hermione Granger that is still an infant—is no longer a witch. The life she will lead will have nothing to do with our world. She will never meet this Lockhart or your Ron either."

Her eyes flew wide, and as his words sank in, she found herself dizzy and sick with shock.

Dumbledore's expression became one of profound sympathy. "I'm sorry. I really thought you understood."

She slumped in her chair, shaking her head. "No. I didn't understand… I don't understand." She looked around the room, struggling to focus through her watering eyes. When she spotted the thick tome on a pedestal, she gestured at it. "I'm really not in the enrollment book? Professor Snape said I wasn't."

Dumbledore sighed and nodded. "Mr. Snape believed you were lying about your name, that it was never in the book. He was quite thorough when he looked. However, I make a habit of keeping track of future students. Hermione is a lovely name, but isn't a common one. I remember when it appeared last year. It's not there now."

"Why _not?_" she cried.

"Little Miss Granger lost her magic the moment you first cast a spell in this time."

"But… I don't understand. That never happened before…"

"The Law of Magical Conservation."

Hermione shook her head. "That doesn't make sense. I used Time-turners throughout my entire third year! I never turned myself into a squib."

"Yes, but the most you could have traveled was two hours. You would have been the equal of your other self for the most part. When you go back in time, you don't actually bring your magic with you, only your potential to use it. When you do, you are actually sharing your other self's magic pool. It's not noticeable unless the both of you try something extraordinary at the same time. That's why there's a time limit. Beyond that, things become very messy indeed. We grow more powerful as we age. The larger the age gap between your two selves, the larger the gap in strength. Instead of sharing the magical pool, you sort of… abduct it, I'm afraid. When you came back to this time, you stripped your infant self of all of her magic with the first spell you cast."

Hermione pressed her hand against her mouth and began to rock back and forth. Understanding hit her like a jolt of electricity, and her hair stood on end. "Oh, my god! I turned myself into a squib cleaning Trelawney's ugly robes! I splattered mud on her robes before her interview!"

"I'm terribly sorry, Miss Granger. If it's any consolation, I'm sure that if you _could _find a way to travel forward into the future you've just created, you would find your other self a well-adjusted, happy person. She won't miss what she never knew she had."

"Can I give her back her magic?"

"I'm afraid not. She is but an infant and their brains grow shockingly fast. Hers would already have begun to change, compensating for the loss within moments."

Hermione continued rocking, struggling not to vomit from the shock. She'd ripped her own magic away… the very thought sickened her.

"And you say there's no way to send me home?"

"Not that I am aware of, but then, I wasn't aware of there being a way to send someone back twenty years." Dumbledore smiled. "There's always hope. You might want to start by visiting your friend."

"Who, Snape?"

Dumbledore tilted his head to the side, the twinkle back in place. "I was thinking more along the lines of the entity that sent you here. I would go and seek the Come and Go Room. It seems to have taken tremendous liberties with your life. I'm inclined to believe it had more than one reason."

:

Hermione stumbled through the school with her head lost in a muddle of confused emotions. Everything in her life was so completely screwed up that she didn't even know which part to weep over first. The door to the room didn't seem inclined to appear where she was, so she walked to where she knew it would be. She paced back and forth three times in front of the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, wanting nothing more than a place to hide and cry. When the door finally appeared, she fled inside to find a cozy little room with a small fireplace, crackling brightly, and a comfortable, overstuffed chair with a squashy pillow. It was perfect. She flung herself into the cushions and whimpered, burying her face in the pillow.

Just like every other adolescent, she'd often used the phrase, 'Now my life is ruined!' However, she couldn't help but wonder if it had ever been so completely apt. How many times had someone bollixed things up so completely that they had literally obliterated their future?

She lifted her head. "I did what you wanted," she said. "Is this what you had in mind?"

There was no answer but the popping and crackling of the fire. Her sadness turned to resentment in a flash.

"What? Nothing to say? No clever comfort? No pithy phrases? Oh, that's right, you're just a building." Swiping at her eyes with her sleeve, she added, "You've probably no idea who I am or what I'm doing here."

A small table appeared next to her, and sitting on a silver serving tray was a butterbeer and a red, plastic flowerpot. She reeled back as if slapped, feeling horribly betrayed.

"Why? Why would you do this to me? I thought you liked me." She knew this last lament sounded pitiful, but she couldn't help it.

In response, a newspaper cutting appeared on the tray. Picking it up, she read the headline and gasped.

**Wizarding World Mourns Once Again**

_The Wizarding World is still reeling from the shocking death of one of its greatest heroines. Hermione Granger was killed last night in Amsterdam, Holland. Miss Granger, who had spent the last year helping to rebuild Hogwarts, had gone on an extended holiday to celebrate the conclusion of repairs. Her holiday lasted only one short day. Witnesses say she was attacked in a hostel by a man later identified as Thorfinn Rowle, a Death Eater and loyal follower of Voldemort. He was apprehended, but subsequently died from injuries sustained as Miss Granger fought for her life. Rowle had escaped from the final battle and had been on the Ministry's Most Wanted List for the last year. Aurors had tracked him to Paris, Luxembourg, and Trieste, before losing his trail._

_As our readers know, Hermione Granger was instrumental in helping Harry Potter bring an end to…_

Hermione dropped the paper in her hand and stared at it in shock, hearing only the blood pounding in her ears. Finally, she lifted her head and looked around the room.

"You knew this would happen?"

There was no answer.

"How? How was that possible? If you knew my future, why didn't you prevent your own? You could have stopped Voldemort when he hid the Tiara…"

Again, there was nothing but the crackling of the fire.

"I don't understand," she whispered.

Shaking her head, she picked up the news clipping and set it back down back down on the tray.

"Thank you," she murmured. "You saved my life."

Smoothing down a fold in her robes, she straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. "Is there any way to go back?"

There was a rustling of paper, and she looked down on the floor beside her chair to find a copy of the Daily Prophet. Checking the date, she saw it was the same paper she'd looked at that morning. It was folded back to the tenth page, where several items were circled in green ink—rooms to let and jobs to be had.

She bit her lip against the fresh tears that wanted to fall. "I see," she whispered.

Staring into the fire, she felt the deadening numbness that had ruled her life after the battle reassert itself. It was too much. No future, meant no Ron at all. No Harry, or Ginny. Shaking her head, she said, "I wanted to get away from everyone, but somehow, the idea of doing so was much easier when I thought I could see them again someday." She blotted at her tears with her sleeve. "You do realize that you're my only friend now, don't you?"

In answer, a light bloomed in a darkened corner, illuminating a cracked stone plinth and the black marble bust on top of it. She tilted her head to the side and stared at the likeness, noting the differences that age and experience had carved into the older face.

"But he's not the same man now," she said as fat tears rolled down her cheeks. "For good or ill, I've ensured that."

The crackle of the fire was the only reply.

:

Hermione crept through the garden to the back door, clutching her tattered beaded bag and her wand. A Silencing Charm, a Disillusionment Spell, and an Alohomora followed, and quick as a wink, she was in. Her head pounded, railing against her audacity but was powerless to stop her impulsive action. Her heart had won out in the thirty minutes she'd spent staring through windows, and she needed this balm more than she needed sanity.

She moved like a wraith through the house, her eyes barely able to focus through her tears. Drifting through the sitting room and up the stairs, she followed the sound of the lullaby until she found them.

Her mother was folding tiny little outfits, with her hair pulled up into a rough pony tail on the top of her head. She looked tired, but she made short work of the laundry basket with the manner of someone that enjoyed their task.

Her father, not yet bald and with no paunch yet to speak of, rocked his baby to sleep with her favorite song. He never took his eyes off the fat little face in his arms. There was no getting around the fact that Hermione had been an incredibly fat baby. Her mother had always said it had taken her so long to crawl because she couldn't roll over from the weight.

It hadn't lasted. Not long after she was up and running, most of that baby fat had melted away. Her father had always said he'd missed it. Looking at the way he stroked her fat cheeks, he'd meant it.

Hermione pressed her hands against her mouth to stop the sobs, heedless of the fact that it wasn't necessary. Hunkering down on her heels, she leaned against the door jamb and wept hysterically while her father sang to her.

It was surreal.

It was soul crushing.

She'd already been in this place, hiding in their house in Australia and watching them make supper or putter in their garden. She'd spent hours wishing they would somehow know she was there, wanting more than anything for them to suddenly turn to her and remember it all, to run across the room and throw their arms around her and crush her tight.

In the end, the watching had made everything worse. It was a form of self-flagellation that she knew was doing more harm than good. And yet, here she was, doing it again.

She watched as they tucked their baby in for the night, stepped out of the way as they headed to their bedroom, and bit her lip in tears as they closed the door in her face.

She could hear the telly click on in their room, pressed her ear to the door as the BBC chattered on about unrest in the mines and Margaret Thatcher calling for wage caps.

She listened to them talk about the future, wondering what sort of world their child would inherit, with joy-tinged fear. The future was wide open to them at this point. Anything could happen.

Anything except a letter from a Wizarding school in Scotland…

Stepping away from the door, she crept back into her room and made her way to the cot. Crouching down on her haunches, she grabbed onto the slats and looked at the sleeping infant inside.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I'm so very sorry…"

She began to sob, slowly collapsing to the floor. She stayed there for hours with her hands gripping the bars and her tears soaking the floor.

:

* * *

:

This chapter is dedicated to a brave young lady who's traveled to the other side of the world to go to school. It's not jumping into the past, but it can be just as disorienting. Especially when the school is in New Jersey. New Jersey's weird. Good luck, hon.


	5. Friendship Follies

**AN:** Sketchy review replies this weekend, so here's a big fat chapter for ya.

* * *

"It's a circular wrist motion needed here. You probably remember that from your first year. You'll want the number six pestle, as stainless steel is non-absorbent and doesn't impart any undue influences into the final product."

A bell chimed, distracting both teacher and student. "Do continue. I won't be long."

Hermione smiled and took the large, flattened bowl, cradling it on her hip, as instructed, and went to work crushing the dried liverwort leaves with the pestle, using the proper circular wrist motion.

"Good afternoon, sir. How may I be of service today?"

"I need a large order filled," said a deep and easily recognized voice. Hermione grinned and stepped closer to the door, peeking her head around the jamb in time to see Snape pass a sheet of parchment across the counter. He looked the same as he had when she'd first seen him standing in the street, pale and thin and slightly prickly. She was about to call out a greeting, when her employer cleared his throat in that way he had that signaled he was annoyed. She decided not to interrupt.

"I've been expecting the Hogwarts order," Mister Applethorn said as he looked at Snape over the top of his glasses. "You're a bit late, aren't you? Horace always had this in to me before the end of July. It's now August third."

Snape scowled at this not-so-subtle rebuke. "It took time to get the new curriculum approved by the Ministry. That's why it was delayed. Is this a problem? Should I take my custom elsewhere?"

Applethorn chuckled, setting his long, grey beard flapping against his round belly. "I've an exclusive contract, young man. I'd like to see you get the approval to have another apothecary do the job." He reached under the counter and brought out another piece of parchment. "I have a master list of things here. This is what the Ministry will pay for. You have a few items here that aren't on it. Not that I'm surprised. Horace was always trying to slip a few personal wishes into the mix too. Can't fault a man for trying, I suppose. However, I didn't make my reputation by playing fast and loose with the rules. If you want these extras, such as boomslang skin, you'll have to pay for them out of your own pocket."

Snape's face turned thunderous. "None of it is for _me_," he hissed in a quiet voice. "I've created a new curriculum. This is the new list."

"The curriculum at Hogwarts hasn't changed in ninety years. I'm sorry, but if you want to make changes, you'll have to get Ministry approval."

Hermione winced and backed out of sight as Snape's lips flattened. She'd seen that look often enough as a student to know this wouldn't go well, and it wouldn't do to have him know she'd witnessed his humiliation again. Scurrying across the backroom to the farthest corner, she crushed leaves with a vengeance.

It did no good. Their voices seemed pitched to carry, even if Snape's was dangerously soft. "It _has_ been approved. That's why it's _late_."

"But you haven't furnished me with the proper authorization form. As soon as you do, I'll have my new shop girl begin preparing your order."

"Since it will take some time to process the order, perhaps you could have your _shop girl _start in on those supplies that are already approved until I return with the proper form. Or do you need the proper Ministry to hold your proper hand for even that much proper responsibility?"

There was a moment of absolute silence before Applethorn bellowed, "_Miss Granger!_"

Hermione scrunched up her face and dropped her head forward. _Damn and blast it._ Setting her bowl down, she wiped her hands on her apron and patted at her bun before hurrying to the front counter.

"You called? Oh! Professor Snape! I had no idea you were here! How lovely to see you again!" Her best, dazzling smile faltered as he returned a piercing stare.

"What are _you_ doing here?" he hissed.

She reinforced her wobbling smile as best she could. "Working. I started almost a month ago. I'm Mr. Applethorn's new assistant, although he has an unfortunate tendency to call me his shop girl." She said the latter with a smile at her employer to soften the rebuke. They'd been arguing about her job title ever since she'd started three weeks ago.

Applethorn snatched up a quill and began slashing through several items on the list. "Hermione, dear, I want you to start packing this order right away. It must be done by the twenty-seventh."

"The twenty-_fifth_," Snape snapped.

Applethorn sighed. "As you say." He shoved it under Hermione's nose. "Now, sir, if you have any other needs you may address them to my _shop girl_. Miss Granger, when he's gone you may go and get some lunch, _if _you still have an appetite." With that, he stalked off into his office and banged the door shut.

Snape barely waited until the door was closed before he leaned across the counter and hissed, "What the devil are you still doing here?"

She glanced over her shoulder at the office door. "I'll explain later. Did you need anything else at the moment?"

"No," he said, straightening up and folding his arms across his chest.

"Fine. Then have you eaten?"

He blinked. "No. I was going to pick something up at the Three Broomsticks."

"Good. I'll join you." She untied her apron and hung it over a hook. "Sir, I'm off!"

"Very good. Enjoy, dear," came the muffled voice through the door.

Hermione reached under the counter and snatched up her new bag. It didn't have any beads, but it was a good one nonetheless. She rounded the counter and was practically at the door when she realized Snape was still standing there. "Aren't you coming?"

With a scowl of confused annoyance, he followed. Once outside, they stomped along in silence, with her taking one and a half strides to each of his.

"Are you going to tell me now? Or is this the part where you say, 'It's a long story.'"

"Well it _is_ a long story, you have to admit that."

He sighed. "True. You _are_ 'still here' aren't you? Not, 'here again?'"

She shook her head. "Still here, I'm afraid. Here for good, it seems."

He stopped. "Why? What happened?"

Still shaking her head, she said, "Apparently, there _is_ no way back to my time. Time turners are no help. They can only send you backwards, and I'm backwards enough, thank you very much. Whatever magic was used to send me here apparently can't be replicated. I spent several days at the Ministry listening to Unspeakables argue the point in circles and debate paradox theories until I started to fantasize about knitting all their beards together and zapping them with Stinging Hexes."

She sighed. "The good news is I'm anchored to this reality by the thing that sent me."

"The flowerpot?"

"Not exactly. The flowerpot was another mystery to them. They were so overjoyed with it I let them keep it. One or two thought that I might have already in the past when I activated it. Don't ask me, they were crazy, the lot of them. Anyway, the bad news is it seems that even if I _were_ to find a way to go back to my time, I've buggered it up to the point where I wouldn't be any better off than I am now."

He winced. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

She tsked and started walking. "You shouldn't be. Not really. My timeline wasn't a very good one. It's just as well it's gone. I've just got to make my peace with this one." She stopped as he opened the door for her. "It's not that bad, I guess. I've got a job, as you saw, a little room of my own, and a friend."

"A friend? Who?"

"You, silly. You're one of the reasons I settled in Hogsmeade. I knew you were at the castle, and you're the only person who knows me here. I figured I'd run into you sooner or later. I didn't think it would have taken so long, but I'm very glad I finally did. You owe me a pint, by the way."

"You _wanted_ to run into me?"

Taking her seat, she looked up to see his absolute befuddlement. In fact, he looked so distressed that she found herself unsure of her presumptions. "I'm sorry. Did I take something for granted? I realize we only shared two conversations, but I thought we'd got on rather well. You're the only one that knows the truth about me. Even a distant acquaintance becomes a lifeline when you've been orphaned from everything you know. Trust me. I tortured myself by running around and spying on the people I did know in my time. It was a unique form of mental abuse that I had to stop or I'd go mad. I need to be able to talk to someone who knows the truth."

He blinked and sat down across from her. Shaking his head slowly, he asked, "Are you saying you want to be friends after all?"

Tilting her head to the side, she replied, "Is there a problem with that? You seemed to like the idea before."

He looked at her for so long she started to fidget. She'd spent weeks convinced that Snape would be her friend. Even the Room of Requirement had seemed to think so. He'd seemed rather eager and a bit lonely in their first encounter, and, although their second encounter hadn't started off well, it had ended on a hopeful note.

Looking at him now, she wasn't so sure of her assessment. The expressions on his face seemed to be bouncing all over the place and not many of them were inspiring confidence in her assumptions.

He finally settled on an impressive frown and leaned across the table towards her. "_Are_ you Muggleborn?"

His query landed between them like a brick.

"Does that really matter to you?" she asked, feeling all of her assumptions begin to curdle.

He gave her a hard stare. "It might matter rather a lot," he replied in a grave voice. "If you are, I won't associate myself with you."

And there is was.

Not _can't_…

_Won't._

Obviously, she'd been rather dull-witted in not factoring in one major issue—the _reason_ he was a Death Eater.

She recoiled, shaking her head. She'd been so stupid. She didn't know _this_ Severus Snape. Not at all. In fact, she'd _never_ known him. Her opinion of him had been colored by the self-sacrifice her professor had performed to atone for a rash act that this one hadn't committed. The man she'd known had turned. This one hadn't yet. Just because he'd been astoundingly nice to her that first day, didn't mean he was a nice man. It shouldn't have been such a surprise. Her Professor Snape hadn't ever seemed to know the meaning of the word.

Struggling with her disappointment and mortification, she snatched up her bag again. She bolted up but then sat back down again. Leaning across the table, she hissed. "Enjoy your new life, Mr. Snape. I put a good bit of effort into it, so I would appreciate it if you used it wisely." With that, she jumped up and stormed back out of the Three Broomsticks.

Hearing the door fly open again behind her, she snatched out her wand and spun in place. The last thing she saw before she popped away to Diagon Alley was Snape bearing down on her in anger.

:

Hermione pulled off her apron and hung it on the peg. Arching her back, she sighed at the popping sounds as her vertebrae clicked back into place.

"Are you done already?" her employer asked.

"It's seven o'clock."

"Is it? Oh, so it is. Off you go. Have a good night."

"I'll see you on Monday."

Applethorn waved at her from where he was looking at his ledgers.

Picking up her bag, she headed out the front door. The streets were mostly empty at this hour, most people being finished for the day. There was a burst of laughter from down the street where she saw patrons heading into the Three Broomsticks. She'd wanted to go there for weeks, but had thought there was something mildly pathetic about sitting alone. She'd been so glad to have someone to go eat with, and so thrilled to have renewed their small acquaintance, that she hadn't even noticed that Snape hadn't actually _wanted_ to eat with her.

What an idiot she was.

Swallowing back a lump of tears, she turned and walked off in the other direction. She'd saved the lunch she'd bought under a stasis—she hadn't been able to swallow a bite—so that would do for supper.

"Hey! You there!"

She looked back over her shoulder and groaned. Ducking her head down, she started walking faster.

"Hello, what's all this running away?" Sirius Black said as he caught up with her. James was hard on his heels. She darted a look around but the other two Marauders were nowhere in sight.

"I thought running away was a natural method of avoiding the unpleasant," she snapped.

James barked a laugh, and Sirius clasped his hand to his chest. "A cut, James! A cut!" Skipping ahead of her and walking backwards, he said, "You wound me, and now I lie bleeding before you."

"Don't let me stop you from your death scene. I'm sure your friend here will think it highly amusing." She angled away from him but he danced back into her way.

"Now, now, pet. Don't be like that. We just got off to a wrong start. Let me properly introduce myself. I'm—"

"Sirius Black, yes, I know. Unfortunately for you, I'm not impressed."

"But you've heard of me," he said waggling his eyebrows. "Surely that stands for something."

She sighed and turned slightly, intending to herd him into the rubbish bin on the corner. "I've heard of Argus Filch as well," she snapped.

James let out another hearty laugh. "Oh, she's got your number, Padfoot. I like this one. I think she's a keeper."

Hermione shook her head. "Do you? How utterly fascinating. I wasn't aware that I wanted to be kept."

"That's because you haven't had a chance to get to know me," Sirius replied. "And I," he lowered his voice suggestively, "haven't had a chance to know you, either."

Hermione stopped and stared at them. "I had no idea that such Neanderthals still roamed the earth. Look at the two of you! How long have you been out of school? And yet the pair of you act like every other hormonal boy who just discovered there are things he can do with his knob besides tug on it all day. Do you really think harassing a solitary woman on her way home from work is going to earn you anything but contempt?"

"Easy, pet," Sirius said. "We were just wanting to say hello. In fact, I had wanted to apologize for what happened the last time we met."

Narrowing her eyes, she said, "I'm no one's pet, and nothing would have happened that night if you and your pathetic friends hadn't embarrassed yourselves acting like immature fools."

"Look, love," James said. "If you're upset about our busting up your date with Snape, I have to tell you, we did you a favor. Honestly. He's a very bad character."

"It's true," Sirius said with a smirk. "Besides, these days, ole' Snivellus likes taking it in the—" Sirius's words cut off with a squawk of surprise as Hermione's wand danced before his eyes.

"You don't want to finish that sentence."

"So you _are _soft on the git," James said. He sighed dramatically. "I think our good deeds are wasted on this one, my friend. Let's go."

"No." Black said in a low voice, his face clouded with anger. "I told you, James. I'm done with not knowing. I want to know who she is, I want to know where she came from, and I want to know why she's associating with Snape."

"Why?" she said. "What possible interest could you have?"

"Because that bastard knows where my brother disappeared to and anyone he associates with is suspect in my book."

She sighed and lowered her wand. "Why is everything so black and white to you? Why does it follow that because you saw Severus and I sharing a drink that I must be his girlfriend and therefore, must know what happened to your brother? I'm sorry your brother is missing, but I can't help you. I've never met your brother. In fact, I'd only just met Mr. Snape that night. I bought him a drink because he did me a good turn. That was about the full extent of our association. Does that solve your mystery?" She stepped back from them. "Now, I've had a remarkably bad day, and would very much like for you both to go away and leave me alone."

Even more impulsive than she'd remembered, Sirius' manner shifted alarmingly. He gave her a broad smile and a knowing wink. "I knew you couldn't have a thing for that grease ball."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Gods, Harry's stories of Snape's memories didn't begin to tell half the tale.

He took a step closer to her and gave her a look that she assumed was supposed to be effective at seduction. She was so insulted, that she blurted, "I only said that there was nothing going on between us. I never said I wasn't interested."

His brows met in confusion. "You must be—"

"Must be what? Joking? Au contraire. I found him to be rather charming. He's not nearly as bad looking as you make out and one of my most memorable impressions of him from that night is that he smelled strongly of _soap_, which makes all your comments about his hygiene sound somewhat uninspired."

"He's a Death Eater!"

She rolled her eyes. "Perhaps I'm one of those girls who _likes_ flirting with danger. Perhaps I'm just stupid. What's it to you? Why do you care who Snape has a drink with? Tell me, what _is_ your issue with him? Did he steal your girl?" She let her mouth slide into her best impression of Snape's smirk. "Or did he fail to ask you to _be_ his girl? That would explain such behavior as publicly harassing women on the street. Am I supposed to be distracting people from some other truth?"

Sirius' eyes sprang wide. "You're out of your tiny mind!" he cried with a half-hearted laugh, backing away. "You _are_ an odd bird." His eyes narrowed, and he stared at her in suspicion. "Who _are_ you?"

"I assure you, I'm no one of interest to you, and you're no one of interest to me. Is this conversation over?"

James reached out and plucked at Sirius's sleeve. "Yeah, we're done here. Sorry, miss. Come on, mate. Lily's waiting."

Sirius stared at her as James pulled him away. She kept her eye on them and her wand in her hand until they'd Disapparated away with a pop.

She sighed and turned away, jumping in fright when she saw Snape standing there. The hex was out of her wand before she recognized him, but he batted it away with ease.

"Sorry," he said. "Didn't mean to startle you." He looked back down the street at where the other two had left, his face mottled with revulsion and confusion. "Do you really believe he fancies me?"

She shrugged and started walking. She'd had enough for one day and would just as soon have left him standing in the road. Unfortunately, he fell in beside her. "It would make as much sense as anything, I suppose. Why? Are you interested?"

Snape swung his head around so fast his lank hair fanned out around his head. "No! You mustn't believe the rot he spews. Whatever Regulus told him about me was obviously an attempt to hide the truth about himself. With a brother like that, it's no surprise. No wonder he ran away last year. Look, Reg's a friend, but that doesn't mean I'm a poofter too."

She flicked a hand in the air. "I wouldn't care if you were. That sort of thing is really isn't an issue in my day. In fact, I find the subject boring. I've just found that people tend to accuse others of the thing they're most afraid of in themselves. Like your stupid Voldemort. He's all about blood purity, and his father was a Muggle."

Snape grabbed her arm in a tight grip. "_Have you lost your bloody mind?_"

"You mean you didn't know? It's true! In fact—"

Her words ground to a halt when two people appeared with a pop. Her eyes went wide with fear as she realized what she had done and how much danger she was now in. She looked around but found herself utterly alone in the middle of Hogsmeade surrounded by Death Eaters. And not just any Death Eaters…

Lucius Malfoy was breathtaking. His features could almost be described as angelic if his dead-eyed stare didn't ruin the effect. Bellatrix, on the other hand, was more beautiful than Hermione's memories of her because she looked _sane_. Cold, calculating, and intimidatingly calm.

Snape twisted her arm in his grasp and dragged her around to face them. "I caught her! _Me!_ _I'll _take her to our lord."

Lucius held his hand out to silence him and then tilted Hermione's chin up with the handle of his cane. "Who are you?" he said in a soft, pleasant voice.

"Her name is Hermione Granger!" Snape said with eagerness. Hermione nearly fainted at his betrayal.

"Do shut up, Snape. If I'd wanted you to tell me, I'd have asked you."

Snape jerked her backwards keeping his grip on her arm as he shoved her behind his back. "She's mine, Malfoy. I heard her, I apprehended her, and I'll take her to our lord."

Bellatrix lifted a hand and silently summoned Hermione's wand out of her grip. "Do you always fail to disarm your prisoners, Snape?" she said with contempt. "Where are you from, _Miss Granger?_"

"I already ascertained all that," Snape said boastfully. "She just moved here from Canada and wasn't aware of our… current political climate. It was your cousin, Bella. She says he tried to chat her up and when she repelled his advances, he tricked her into saying _his_ name. I saw him and his friend Potter pop away just as I arrived."

"Really?" Bellatrix looked at her with new respect. "You turned down my hapless cousin? That must have stuck in his craw. I think I rather like this one, Lucius."

"Indeed," Malfoy replied. "She does seem to have taste." He stepped back. "Still, we ought not take chances."

"Exactly!" said Snape. "She could be lying. In fact, I'm sure of it. She could be a spy and the whole thing was a set up to get her into our good graces!"

"Or," drawled Lucius, "she could just be a nobody, and you could be about to humiliate yourself in front of our master yet again. I believe he said something about eliminating dead weight the next time you wasted his time, didn't he?"

Snape dragged her back out from behind him and shoved her at Lucius. "That's true. In fact, you should take her. Yes, I insist. You're the senior here."

Lucius rolled his eyes. "You think _I'm_ stupid enough to waste his time?"

"It's your duty! He'll excuse you if you're wrong."

Lucius shook his head. "Look at her. I think I can actually hear her knees knocking together. You really are just a nobody, aren't you?" he asked her.

Hermione nodded furiously. "I'm sorry! I don't really understand what I've done!"

"Ohhhh, poor baby," said Bellatrix. "There, there, love. No one's going to hurt you. This time. Tell me dear, do you come from a good family?"

Hermione swallowed and nodded emphatically.

"I thought so. You looked like quality." She handed Snape her wand. "You might want to catch up on the papers, dear. It would do you some good to pay attention to current events. Think of it as improving your health."

"But, you can't mean to let her _go_…" Snape's voice was cramped with a nearly demented-sounding disappointment.

"Just stop," Lucius hissed at Snape. "You're embarrassing yourself. In fact, you're defying your orders. You're not supposed to associate with us at all unless he calls you personally. And now you have this young lady fully aware of who you are. What if this incident were to get back to the Headmaster? It would ruin your mission."

"You think I should kill her?" Snape asked with terrifying excitement.

Lucius gave him a pained expression. "You really have no understanding of subtlety, do you? Just walk the girl home and Obliviate her. You _can _do that can't you? You've always been good at mind spells."

"Fine," Snape muttered petulantly. He snatched up her arm again, and she hissed in pain.

"_Easy_ on the poppet," Bellatrix said. "You'll never get a girl with all that mauling. She's a darling, too. I do like the hair. You might want to chat her up a bit—once she's forgotten you're an arsehole, of course."

He snarled and shook her arm. "Where do you live?" he snapped.

Hermione gestured vaguely, and he dragged her in that direction.

"It was lovely meeting you, Miss Granger," Bellatrix called after them.

Hermione looked back over her shoulder and actually found herself returning a listless wave. Malfoy and Lestrange popped away, and both she and Snape hurried around the corner and collapsed against the side of the building.

"Oh, my gods…" she whispered.

Snape's chest was pumping like a blown horse. "Don't _ever_ do that again! God's teeth! Did _everyone_ run around shouting his name where you come from?"

"He was _dead!_" she said. "No one was afraid of him anymore!"

"Really? Well, you'd bloody well better learn to be afraid again! Because he's very, very alive now!" he shouted. He shook his head and grabbed her arm again, starting her walking again. "Where _do_ you live?"

"Above Gladrags, and you're hurting me," she said with more whine in her voice than she liked.

He let go of her immediately. "A bruised arm is the smallest possible price to pay."

"I know," she said in a quiet voice. "Thank you. You were glorious, by the way. Christ, I believed you at first. I nearly wet myself."

He gave her a startled look and then smiled. "I _was_ a bit brilliant, wasn't I?"

She chuckled. "Brilliant, quick-witted, and incredibly brave, I think. It was an wonderfully Slytherin tactic. You played on their opinions and preconceptions. Amazing."

He preened under her praise.

"So amazing in fact, that I almost forgot to wonder what the hell you were doing there to begin with."

His face fell, and he hunched his shoulders.

She led him up the back stairs and dropped the wards on her door. Pushing it open, she said, "After you."

Once inside, she closed and re-warded the door before turning to him with an expectant stare.

His mouth flattened. "I was following you home," he said grudgingly. "I wanted a chance to talk to you."

"Well, you're here. Start talking." She dropped her bag on the table, and reached into her pocket. Pulling out her week's pay, she walked the four steps across her tiny flat, and reached up to pull her strongbox off the shelf. His arms came up behind her, and he lifted it down for her, placing it on her chest-of-drawers next to her notes. Nodding her thanks, she tapped it with her wand and opened it.

"What's all this?" he asked picking up her notes and rifling through them.

She snatched the notes out of his hands. "I'm teaching myself Quantum Arithmancy."

"You're—are you serious?"

"It's just a way to pass the time," she said, dropping her galleons into the chest with a clink.

Gesturing to the chest, he said, "There was a lot more in that back in June."

She snorted. "Yes. There was. A lot more."

"Were you robbed?" he asked with concern, confusing her all over again. How could he have just saved her, be worried if she'd been robbed, and hate her for being Muggleborn all at the same time?

She shook her head. "No, I wasn't robbed."

"You spent it?" He looked around at her tiny flat, with its single bed in one corner and its small cooker and sink in the other. A rickety table and two mismatched chairs filled the space in between. The tiny bathroom was hidden behind the only other door. "On what?"

She laughed at his obvious confusion. "On the stock market. I converted ten thousand galleons to U.S. dollars, and invested it. I've started with commodities, but when it goes public, I'm buying in on Apple. In another few years, I'll buy into Microsoft, and then Dell after that. I'll sell off the lot in ninety-nine—the markets seemed to be getting a bit wobbly when I left. After that, I'll retire to Fiji."

He tilted his head, plainly baffled.

"I ruined the Wizarding World's future. Not the Muggle one. In twenty years I'll be worth millions."

His eyes went wide. "Twenty years? Is that how far you've come?"

She nodded. "Next month, another me will have her first birthday, a me that's not magical anymore. By coming back in time so far, I cost her the future she would've had. That's why my name disappeared from the enrollment book. However, at least she'll always have her parents. The war cost me mine."

His face clouded. "Your parents are dead?"

She shook her head. "It's a long story."

He scowled at that. "Will I ever get to hear any of these stories?"

She gave him a steady look as she folded her arms across her chest. "I save my stories for my friends."

He closed his eyes and sighed. "Hermione, I _want_ to be your friend. I would very much like to be your friend. In fact, the very idea leaves me a bit sweaty. However, I am what I am. You saw what just happened. Just walking down the street with you almost got you killed. Being my friend could be fatal, _especially _if you're Muggleborn. I didn't mean to insult you this afternoon. I was trying to, well, spare you. Things have changed since we met. Being my friend just isn't healthy for you. It's better if you tell people like Black that you hate me."

She screwed her face up, realizing how badly she had messed up. Again.

"Severus, you and Dumbledore are the only ones who know I'm Muggleborn. Sirius and James made an assumption based on the fact that I was wearing a pair of blue jeans." She shook her head. "If you don't tell him, how would your Dark Lord find out?"

He looked away. "I don't have to tell him. He can read minds."

"And you can block him."

He gave her a startled glance, and she raised her eyebrows.

"Unless… you haven't learned yet. Interesting."

She sat down and pulled her uneaten lunch out of her bag, placing it on the table. Lifting the lid on the box, she cancelled the Stasis Charm and zapped it with a Heating Charm. "Now, why don't you tell me why you're really here? If things would be better with us not being friends, you're going about it all wrong."

He was quiet as she reached over and grabbed her silverware out of the ceramic mug she kept it in. She reached back into her bag and pulled out a bottle of ginger beer, cooling it before prying the cap off.

Finally, he scraped back the other chair and sat down, stiff and formal and obviously uncomfortable. "I'm here because I would like to know what you meant this afternoon," he said quietly.

She took a sip of her drink before she replied. "I meant if you're going to start calling me Mudblood, then you can bloody well eat by yourself." He flinched, but she ignored him and stabbed at her roast chicken.

"Not… _that_. You said—you implied that you changed my future in some way. I want to know if that was a generalized statement, or more specific to me."

She chewed and swallowed before answering. "Both. I changed a lot of lives by changing your fate."

He twitched and looked like he might even be on the verge of a fit. "You told me you didn't come to change my fate."

"That was true at the time. However, the next day I rethought the whole thing and went and changed the hell out of your fate."

"Why…?" he asked in a sigh, shaking his head. "I don't understand. I'm nobody. You've seen how people think of me. Not just Black and Potter, but my… _associates_, as well. You shouldn't—I'm not worth... I'm not a good person. I wasn't worth ruining your life."

She looked up at him sadly. "Severus, you just saved my life, and I'm supposed to believe you're bad? Please. If you're not a good person, it's because you choose not to be."

He shook his head. "You don't really know me then."

She nodded. "I do and I don't. I knew a good bit about the Severus Snape that never found a witch lying in the mud with all her worldly possessions scattered about, but I don't know _you_."

"Tell me about him," he said quietly.

With a sigh, she said, "You were a Death Eater in my time as well, but you did something, something terrible, and it changed you. It made you a better person. A hero. A legend. However, this terrible thing ate away at you. You couldn't forgive yourself and ended up living a wretched life that I don't think you deserved."

She laid her fork to the side. "That terrible thing isn't going to happen now, because of me. Only, now I've left you with no redemption. No transformation. No one will ever know how good you're capable of being. I took away your regret, but I also took away your chance to be the hero."

His features went slack, and his lips parted as she spoke. There, in the depths of his dark eyes, she saw a spark of hope catch fire.

"That's why I went to Dumbledore the next day. I knew things that could change your future for the better, and I didn't want to leave without doing what I could."

"Why? I don't understand," he said. "What's so special about me?"

She grimaced. That answer was a bit complex. "In my time, aside from being an impressive Legilimens, you were also the supreme Occlumens in all of Great Britain. You could look the Dark Lord in the eye and lie with ease. You did. For years."

He shrank back. "You mean I became a _traitor_?"

"You became a _spy_. The greatest spy the Wizarding World had ever known."

The blood drained from his face as her words sank in. "Why the _fuck_ would I do _that?_" he blurted with fear and horror writ large on his face.

She grimaced, realizing she was going to have to tell him to get through his fear. "To atone," she said in a quiet voice.

"For _what?_"

_Gods, this was going to hurt._ "You did something, not knowing it would lead to someone else's death. Someone you cared about a great deal."

He scrunched up his face in confusion. "Who? Who did I—" His eyes widened, and he snapped his face to the side as if trying to avoid his own thoughts. "Not… Lily?"

She stared down at her hands, unable to reply.

"Oh, my god…" he whispered. "I killed _Lily?_"

She sucked in a deep breath before nodding her head in silence. She watched as his face stretched back into a rictus of bloodless horror, and his eyes went wild with shock. His hands came up and covered his mouth, and he hunched his shoulders as if trying to hide under them.

She gave him a soft, sympathetic smile, but was lost for words. His reaction to just the idea of it gave her more insight into the man who had actually done it than she was comfortable with. Obviously, to him there was no greater horror.

"How…?" he rasped. "Why would I do such a thing? Lily's my—she's my…" He stared at the table, lost in his own dismay, before whispering, "How?"

Hermione grimaced, trying to figure out how to answer without giving too much away. Because of her, he hadn't heard the prophecy. It was probably best to keep it that way.

"You overheard some information. Wanting to impress you master with how useful you were, you went running off and told him straight away. You had no idea that he would decide this information pertained to the Potters. She died by the Dark Lord's hand because of what you told him. You spent the next seventeen years dedicated to making him pay for that. In the end, he did. Because of you, he's dead in my time."

"Was it me? Did I kill him?" His voice was a raw wound.

She shook her head. "No. He killed you. The same night he was finally vanquished, he killed you."

"He found out I was betraying him?"

"No. Nothing so noble as that. I'm afraid you just happened to be in his way. His followers have no value to him at all aside from your capacity to be useful to his purposes. Killing you was meaningless, but even when you knew it was inevitable, you stuck to your purpose and fulfilled your mission."

"Did I? Were you there?" His voice was hollow. Desolate.

She swallowed with difficulty as the tears started to fall. She nodded. "Yeah. I was there. You didn't die alone." She swallowed again convulsively.

His brow furrowed in a storm of mystification. "Hermione… What am I to you?"

She shook her head, lost for an answer. She reached across the table and grabbed his left hand, pulling it back towards her. His untrimmed nails dug into the flesh of her palm. "You're my hero. An inspiration. You were a great sorrow to me because I never had the chance to really know you or to thank you for everything you'd done. You were one more person that I'd lost."

Shoving up his sleeve, she revealed his Dark mark, livid black and pulsating against his pale skin. He hissed and tried to pull away but she held him in a firm grip.

"I changed all of that. Lily's safe now, but you've been left just a Death Eater. The Dark Lord won't misunderstand the information you gave him because you never heard it. You were too busy helping me pick my bras up off the street."

He flushed, and she gave him a weak smile.

"Everything I've just told you will never happen, but some other tragedy will. Tom Riddle is still hungry for power, and the war will go on in another way now. I'm afraid your death will be just as inglorious, but no one will mourn you." She let go of him and pulled her hands away. "No one will know about the hero's heart that was hiding inside you all the while, waiting to do things like rescue foolish witches who blurt the wrong thing while standing in the middle of the street."

She gave him a long, steady look.

"No one but me… and Albus Dumbledore."

His eyes went wide, and he jumped up out of his chair as if he'd been hit with a Stinging Hex. "Jesus Christ! You told all this to _Dumbledore?_"

"Of course I did. Your Dark Lord is evil and must be stopped."

"You've killed me!" he squealed in terror.

"Have I?"

"Dumbledore only _suspected_ I was spying on him before! Now he knows I am! _Fuck! _What have you _done?_"

Hermione couldn't find it in her to join in his hysteria. "I gave you a chance at a new life. What you do with it is up to you. If you'd prefer to stay a Death Eater, I'm sure your master could torture a lot of helpful information out of me. That would certainly buy you a bit of respect. It won't buy you any guarantees, though. He has no concept of loyalty and could just as easily kill you the next day for no reason."

She frowned, seeing that his fear was bigger than his hope.

"The wall in Regulus Black's bedroom is full of news clippings and pictures of your Dark Lord, gathered like a horrible butterfly collection starting from when he was a boy. No one admired Tom Riddle more than that boy. His parents were proud of him, encouraging his fancy because they agreed with many of the things Riddle spouted."

She looked up and pinned him with a stare. "Regulus Black has been dead these last ten months, and on some level, his brother knows it. That's why he attacked you that day, and that's why he accosted me today."

Snape's eyes went wide, and she saw the honest shock and regret on his face.

"Your Dark Lord doesn't understand love. Not Sirius' love for a brother who drove him crazy, not Regulus' love for a house-elf, and not your love for Lily."

She stared down at her food. "You might want to look at your other options," she said.

"What? What other options?"

"You could go to Dumbledore. Tonight. Tell him you spoke with me. Tell him you want to be a better person. Dumbledore is a powerful Legilimens, better than you by a mile. In my time, the only mind he couldn't read was yours. If you don't know Occlumency yet, then he already knows you're a plant and has been skimming information from you with every conversation you've had. The only reason he would have hired you is to feed you false information. You're dead as soon as Riddle figures that out."

"Oh, gods," he whimpered collapsing back into his chair. "I'm going to be sick."

"There's another option."

"What?"

"You could run. Run far away. The Severus Snape I knew wasn't a coward, but you? I don't know you."

"How? Where would I go? I don't have any money to buy fruit from the Yanks!"

She laughed. It was the wrong thing to do, the look he threw her was murderous, so she reached out and squeezed his wrist. "Not apples, _Apple_. Computers. I'm investing in computers."

"What the hell? You mean like on Star Trek?"

She snorted. "Sort of, but without the sexy voice."

He gave her a pained look before it grew frightened and sad. "Hermione, I've nowhere to run."

"Then stand and fight," she said. "Join Dumbledore's cause." He recoiled at this in horror, making her shake her head in defeat. "Or sell me out. After all, I'm nothing to you. Just a Mudblood that ruined your life."

His face morphed through several expressions, from horror to something terrifyingly close to calculation before it settled into misery. Pale and wretched-looking, he stood up, taking the time to shove the chair back in before he waved at her now-cold roast chicken and mash. "I should leave you to your supper," he said. "I've ruined enough of your meals for one day."

"Severus," she said, watching him reach for her door.

"Yeah?"

"I really do want to be your friend."

He shook his head. "It's not a good idea, Hermione. I'm not good at being a friend."

He opened the door, and she called out, "It's never too late!" as it swung closed.

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Did you see that back there? I so could have split this chap and left you with a cliffhanger. Yup. Woulda been a doozy.


	6. Conclusions and Occlusions

**AN:** I love you all, and I am so incredibly touched by all the wonderful and amazing responses you've sent! I'm hoping to squeak some sanity back into my schedule tomorrow so I can jump on the replies.

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Hermione ate the last bite of her sandwich and closed her book with a thump. She'd decided to eat at her workbench today for the same reason that she hadn't ventured out of her flat all weekend. She was terrified. She _had _used the time to brush up on her Occlumency skills. Every waking moment since he'd left her flat had been spent waiting for Death Eaters to show up and snatch her away, and every sleeping moment had been filled with sweat-inducing nightmares. Nothing about Snape's manner when he'd left her flat the previous Friday had been reassuring. Sure, he'd saved her from his cronies, but that had been _before_ he'd found out she'd ruined his cover. She really had no idea what he was capable of when his back was up against the wall. Her knowledge of the man wasn't reassuring. It was a known fact that he could be dazzlingly selfless as well as shockingly self-centered.

The bell chimed on the shop door, and she flinched. She heard Mr. Applethorn leave his office and sighed with relief. Opening the box on her table, she began weighing out dried batwings.

How much longer could she go on like this? The only reason she'd come to Hogsmeade was because the Room of Requirement had only circled jobs and flats available here, and because she'd thought there might have been a good chance to get to know Snape better as well.

Not one of her most brilliant plans, really. She might just get to know that Snape would sell his soul for a chance at survival.

Perhaps it would be better if she just cut and run. She'd planned on roaming a bit anyway. What was the point of staying? It was the same place she'd wanted to leave before, just not as old. She'd yet to see Amsterdam. Or perhaps she should head off to America and watch over her investments herself. She'd always thought New Orleans sounded rather exotic…

"Miss Granger!"

She jumped and dropped the last batwing on the scale. "Coming, sir!" Hesitantly popping her head out of the backroom, she sighed in relief to see Dumbledore twinkling at her. Wiping her sweaty hands on her apron, she gave him a relieved smile.

"Hello, Miss Granger. Lovely to see you again. I see you've decided to settle down in our little village. Wonderful decision."

"Thank you, Headmaster."

"Grayson, here, was just telling me what a hard worker you are."

Mr. Applethorn chuckled. "She is indeed. In fact, I have every confidence that she'll be able to take care of these additions in short order. Won't you, dear?" He handed her a list, and she saw it contained all the supplies that had previously been crossed off Severus' list.

"I hope it's not an imposition, Miss Granger. Our new Potions master has decided to make some changes to our curriculum, and I want to make him feel as welcome as possible. Always good to have a new member on our team, don't you think?"

Hermione gave him a level stare, and he smiled and nodded. She reached out and grabbed the counter for support and swallowed down her relief.

"He must feel very welcome indeed," Applethorn said, "if he's got the Headmaster running his errands."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I was on my way to the post office anyway. I fear our new teacher has his hands full learning all the skills he'll need in his new position. I suspect you'll see little of him until the start of term."

Hermione nodded as her mind raced with a million questions she couldn't ask. "Please forward my wishes for his success when you get the chance," she said. Lifting up the list, she added. "I'll just get right on with this."

"You see?" Applethorn said with a laugh. "She's such a help. That one will go far, mark my words. Industrious folk always do, to my mind."

"She's quite an asset," Dumbledore replied as she scurried back into the backroom.

She set the new list down on the bench next to the other and sagged down onto her stool. Closing her eyes, she let the tears leak from under her lashes unchecked.

He'd done it! He'd switched sides! She was _so_ proud of him! She stifled a relieved sob, and remembered his face when she'd told him his cover was blown, not that it had been much cover to begin with.

He must be so very frightened.

She wanted to run out the door and all the way up to the castle and throw her arms around him, dance him in a circle, and lie to him, telling him she'd always had faith. He needed to hear things like that. Too many people had taken too much pleasure in cataloging his deficiencies that he'd even taken to doing it himself. A few ego-boosting exaggerations couldn't hurt, could they?

Sure, he'd done it out of fear and not because it was the right thing to do, but who could fault that? Fear had been his motivation before, hadn't it? The easier decision by far would have been to drag her before his master. That would have bought him the glory he craved and what temporary security there was to be had.

But he hadn't. Instead, he'd thrown himself on Dumbledore's mercy.

Swiping at her face with her sleeve, she sat up and grabbed another fistful of batwings out of the box.

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"Mr. Applethorn! Could you give me a hand with the door?"

"Coming, dear!"

Hermione levitated the many boxes around her, making sure to keep the volatiles well away from each other. With such a disparity of magical ingredients, shrinking them all down to one box was far too dangerous, so this was the only practical way to transport them.

Applethorn hurried over and opened the front door. "It's a beautiful day out there. Why don't you take the afternoon off when you're done," he said. "Things will be a bit crazy once the terms starts and it will be weeks before we get a decent rest."

"Thank you! I think I shall."

"Mind you, you're just to deliver. Horace was forever bribing my shop boys to put the stuff away for him. Don't let this new man take advantage of you. I'm not sure I like his manner. As a student he was always lurking about the shop and never buying anything. Best to establish boundaries with that one from the start, yes?"

She laughed. "I understand."

"Good. Off you go, I'll see you in the morning then."

"Have a good evening!"

She stepped out the door with Hogwarts' entire potion's stock following along behind her like mismatched ducklings. She waved to a few people—she was starting to get to know her neighbors—and headed off down the street.

"Miss Granger! I see you've got a delivery for us."

She turned and saw Dumbledore stepping out of The Three Broomsticks.

"Hello, Professor! I do, indeed."

"Allow me to escort you then."

"I would be honored."

They strolled along in companionable silence, waving to people here and there until they paraded past the train station. When they were out of earshot of everyone she asked, "How is Severus? I haven't seen or heard from him in weeks."

"He's perfectly fine, Miss Granger. He's been studying Occlumency, learning at an astonishing rate, too. He has a very agile mind, and it's been a treat to watch him hone it. I fear I did him a terrible disservice when he was a child. I always saw him as petty and venal and missed how much potential was there."

She gave him a tight smile. "So you did."

He chuckled. "I deserved that, I'm sure. However, you didn't know him as a child. He _was_ petty and venal. However, now I understand that he was also in dire need of direction and discipline. He's taken to it rather well. You'll find him much changed, I think."

She frowned at that. "I rather liked him the way he was."

"Did you, indeed? That's good to know. In fact, it was your opinion of him that swayed me early on. I was still trying to figure out how to take his measure, when he showed up in my office and basically dumped himself in my lap. It was rather astounding. I'm in your debt."

"Are you? Then I'm going to call you on it. Keep Sirius Black away from him. I mean it. That man is completely unstable."

Dumbledore nodded. "I already took that into account. I've given him and his friends a few tasks to keep them busy."

"Did you tell him that his brother is dead?"

"I did. That's why he volunteered. Sirius is loyal to a fault, and his recklessness can be as much of an asset as a flaw. His family practically disowned him when he was sorted into Gryffindor, and I assure you that they weren't much more loving before that either. The only one to ever show him kindness was his younger brother, and losing him has been a terrible blow. I don't foresee any issues as long as we keep him busy. His grief makes him even more impulsive, and I'm not sure he's capable of separating our Mr. Snape from the rest of the pack now that he knows for sure that Severus was a member.

"I'm counting on Remus to keep his baser tendencies in check."

"Can he? He made a poor showing of it that night at the tavern."

"Remus is tenderhearted, but he has it in him to do the right thing. Especially now that they know how high the stakes are. The fact that Regulus turned on his master at the end has given them even more motivation to avenge his death."

"Good. I'm glad."

Dumbledore smiled, as if he was glad to have pleased her. "You might be interested to know that a few other actions have been taken based on your information."

"Oh?"

"Indeed. It would seem that a young up and comer in the Ministry was caught planting Listening Spells in the Minister's private study. Poor Miss Umbridge will have to seek a new form of employment elsewhere without any references. Also, Mr. Pettigrew has had an unfortunate run in with an Auror in the Leaky Cauldron and is currently under questioning."

"Please tell me it was Moody."

"It was."

"Fantastic."

"Thanks to Mr. Pettigrew and Severus, we also now have the names of nearly everyone in their organization, and already have most of them are under surveillance."

"Even better. And what about the proph—"

"I'll ask you not to speak of that. Only you and I know of it. I think it would be best not to lend it strength by speaking of it. There are thousands of prophecies that have never come to pass because no one ever heard them. If the Dark Lord doesn't attack the baby, the warning is meaningless. It could have applied to any child born that day. Tom was the one that gave it force. If we never mention it again, it becomes one more useless globe on a shelf, yes?"

Hermione nodded, she'd spent weeks thinking the same thing and was glad that the Headmaster concurred. It made sense. Neither could die while the other survives only worked if Harry was a Horcrux, and Harry wouldn't become one if Riddle didn't know he was a threat. That's as far as she ever got before her brain would start to smoke.

"We've also had a bit of excitement in the school this summer."

"Did you?"

"We did indeed. It seems, according to your journal, there's been a basilisk hiding in the castle for centuries. Ridding ourselves of that pest was a gruesome business."

Hermione stopped. "Was anyone hurt? That thing was awful!"

"No. no. We were fine, I assure you. We had a devil of a time figuring out what the word for "open" is in Parseltongue, but after that, it was a minor issue."

"How did you vanquish it?"

"I'm not sure vanquished is the right word. Hagrid tossed some poisoned bait down an unused pipe and then all we had to do it go find it and pluck out its teeth. That was the gruesome part. Severus is rather pleased with all the ingredients he managed to collect, however."

"Oh. Well. That's… rather anticlimactic, actually."

"Perhaps, but perhaps a bit better than leaving a child to do it, as you said."

"Very true," she said, shuddering. "So what happens now?" she asked. "According to my timeline, next year was pretty bad. A lot of people died."

"Indeed. That's why we'll be making the first move. As soon as we've secured the little bits hiding here and there, then we shall make a, what was the phrase? Oh, yes, a preemptive strike. That does sound rather splendid, doesn't it?"

"Absolutely."

"Can I count on your assistance?"

Hermione stopped short, sending the boxes bouncing into each other. She was surprised by her gut reaction. Nearly two months of unfinished thoughts and half understood impulses solidified into one clear word. "No," she said in a quiet voice.

Turning and casting an eye on the Headmaster, she shook her head slowly. "I can give you advice if you need it, and I'll answer any questions you have, but I don't think I can jump back into the thick of things again." Just saying it gave the thought strength and she found herself nodding. "I've helped kill him once and I thought I had willingly paid the price, but I didn't. If I'd known then what I would lose, I don't think I would have done it. I know, it makes me sound selfish and weak, but being selfless cost me everything."

Dumbledore gave her a long, measuring glance, and she met his stare without flinching.

"I won't pretend I'm not disappointed, Miss Granger. I would have thought you, of all people, would see how important this is. In fact, I would have thought that you'd understand how important you were to the cause when the castle selected you above all others to come and change the course of history.

She sucked in a deep breath and blew it out. "I'm sorry. I don't think I have it in me to do this again. I have so little now. I have my little room and my little job and my little bit of sanity that I cling to, and as pathetic as they may look from the outside, they are all incredibly precious to me. You can count on my loyalty and discretion, but no, you can't count on me to throw my life away for your cause. Not again. I gave you everything you needed to win this time. I gave… everything."

Dumbledore's eyes turned sad and he nodded several times. "I suppose you _have_ sacrificed enough. I cannot claim to be happy with your decision, but I can understand it when you explain it so clearly. "

She screwed up her face, pricked by guilt. "I'm sorry. Perhaps if there's something small I could do... I just don't—" She sucked in a deep breath and let it out. "I'll help if you think I can, but I don't want to fight anymore."

He gave her a smile and gestured off toward the gates. She started walking again, feeling a mixture of guilt and resentment churning in her gut.

"I'm sure we can find a way for you to help that won't be too dangerous," he said.

She murmured something positive and bit her lip, belatedly feeling overwhelmed by her attempted rebellion. Especially since she didn't know if it had succeeded or not.

Dumbledore put his hand on her shoulder and stopped her as they reached the gates. "I must ask you not to speak of these things within Severus's hearing, Miss Granger. Until he perfects his mental shielding, anything he knows is vulnerable to our adversary. Unfortunately, he already knows far too much, and so it was imperative that he sequester himself away and throw himself into his studies. He's been under quite a strain." Dumbledore looked over her shoulder and smiled. "However, I suspect he will be happy to see you."

"Do you think so? I didn't exactly ask before I made a lot of decisions for him. I'm sure he must resent me."

"Perhaps you should ask him. Here he comes."

She spun around and saw Snape walking down the path from the castle, his cloak flapping out behind him in the breeze. _So close_, she thought. It was _almost_ his illustrious billow. The gates swung open, and he stopped several yards up the path, waiting for them to come through. He stood with stiff grace and an unaffected elegance.

She found herself staring at him, trying to define what it was that was different. His robes were the same, his lank hair was the same, his features hadn't changed—no, wait. They _had_. There, between his brows, was the beginning of the crease he would have when he was older. Other than that faint line of displeasure, she couldn't read his expression at all.

She shivered. Since she'd seen him last, he'd taken one large step toward becoming the man she'd known.

"Good afternoon, Miss Granger," he said as she approached, lifting his wand and taking control of her levitation spell. "I trust you had no mishaps on the way here?"

"No. None at all. The Headmaster and I had a lovely chat along the way."

His eyes flicked to Dumbledore and back, but other than that, there was no reaction to her words. She found herself more than a little depressed to lose the man whose mood had changed without warning and whose every thought had been stamped across his face. It seemed the boy had left and taken the man's smiles with him.

"How have you been?" she asked.

"I've been well enough."

She twisted her fingers into knots behind her back as her attempt at conversation fell onto the ground with an almost audible splat. "Good. Excellent. That's very good."

"Perhaps," said the Headmaster, "Miss Granger could help you put your things away."

Snape raised an eyebrow at this and tilted his head a fraction to the side.

"I could," she blurted. "I have the rest of the day off. I wouldn't mind."

"Splendid," Dumbledore said. "Then I'll extend an invitation for you to join us at the castle this evening for dinner."

There was no sign of encouragement from Snape, and she struggled not to fidget under his scrutiny. "That would be lovely… I think. Thank you."

"Excellent. And now, I have some correspondence to see to. I'll leave you both to it."

With that the Headmaster took off up the path at a brisk pace. Snape gestured politely, and together they started after Dumbledore at a slower pace, trailing her boxes. They didn't speak a word as they entered the castle and headed down towards the dungeons, and Hermione was at an absolute loss for what to say or how to act.

When they reached the solitude of the dungeons, she had a sudden burst of vertigo and panicked at the series of bumps as all the boxes dropped to the floor. She turned as Snape let out a hiss and grabbed his head, falling against the wall. He slid down, all grace gone as he lowered his head to his knees.

"Good lord! Are you alright?" she cried, dropping to her knees before him.

"Yeah," he replied with a groan. He lifted his head and began massaging the crease between his eyes. "Fucking hell, that hurts…" He fumbled in his robes with one hand and came up with a small vial of Headache Remedy.

She took it when his hand shook, popping the cork off and handing it back. He swallowed it in one gulp, and she winced, wishing she could do something more to help.

He opened his eyes and gave her a hard stare. "Were you taking the piss when you said I was good at this?"

"Occlumency?"

He nodded and then closed his eyes quickly. "The only reason why I think I can do this is because you said I already could. If you've been lying to me, I might just drive a spike into your forehead and let you walk around like that for a few days."

She burst out in a girlish giggle, and he opened an eye and smirked at her.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I've no idea how you became so good at it, but it's the truth that you were the best."

He sighed, and she watched his features relax. The potion had done its work.

"It's only painful after the first eight hours," he said.

"Good lord! You don't have to Occlude all day long! Only when you think you might be in danger!"

He shook his head. "No. Dumbledore said I need to keep them up all the time until it becomes reflexive. Otherwise, I could become vulnerable when I'm in an altered state. Drugged or drunk."

"Or Imperioused?"

He snorted and pushed up to his feet. "Nah. I can shrug that off at will. You only have to put up with one round of 'let's make Snape lick my boots' before you learn the trick." He reached down and grabbed her hand and hauled her up, letting go quickly.

"So you're not mad at me?" she asked, biting her lip.

He turned and gave her a long look. "No." He heaved a heavy sigh and flicked his wand at the boxes again. "I was. I did consider turning you over, you know. But in the end, I thought I would give this secret hero's heart a test run. I figured if I was buggered either way, why not go out in style?"

She grinned, scurrying along beside him as they made their way down the corridor. "Good. I'm glad. I had every faith in you."

"No, you didn't. You just want me to think you did to boost my ego. You were scared to death."

"That's not true. I never doubted you!"

He laughed and turned to her. "You're a terrible liar. Besides, one of the side effects of losing control of my shields is that my mind will spring out and snatch thoughts from the people around me. I need to figure out how to stop doing that. If it happens around the Dark Lord, I'm dead. I've still got a few things to perfect." He pushed open the door to the potions cupboard with his shoulder and lowered the boxes to the floor out in the hall. "I appreciate the thought, though."

She sighed. "I just wanted you to know what it's like when people have faith in you."

He gave her a sad little smirk. "Maybe one day I will."

"You will," she said with conviction. "So what else did you pick up from my thoughts?"

He flicked on the candles in the cupboard as she opened the first box. "Let's see, your Occlumency isn't up to snuff, you're both pleased and upset with your conversation with Dumbledore, you were _really_ afraid that I hated you, you put too much mustard on your sandwich at lunch, and you think I'm strikingly handsome."

She scowled and handed him a jar of newt livers. "I only recall thinking that the crease on your face added character, and I don't recall thinking about my lunch at all."

She saw a full, crooked-toothed grin and closed her eyes, snorting. "You tricked me."

He laughed. "So I did. You have a blob of mustard on your robes."

She looked down and gave a little squeal. "I walked through the entire village looking like this!"

That just made him laugh harder as he climbed the ladder.

"So how long did it take before you decided to talk to Dumbledore?" she asked, handing him the jar of sheep's eyes.

He answered without looking, shoving ingredients out of the way to make room for the new. "As long as it took to walk back to the castle. I went straight to his office."

"Really? How long did you contemplate turning me over?"

"All the way down the stairs from your flat, but I was in dead earnest before I reached the bottom." Placing the jar in the right spot, he grabbed the ladder and leaned down to take the next. "In the end, I decided if I was going to have to grovel to someone, I might as well end up with a real friend for the effort."

"An excellent choice," she said as she grinned up at him.

"I had a suspicion you might agree." He snatched the jar and swung back up.

She laughed and reached for the next jar.

:

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Baby steps...


	7. The Fly in the Ointment

**AN**: Hugs to all the readers!

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:

By the time they finished packing away the supplies for the year, Severus only had enough time to give her a tour of his classroom and his office before it was time for dinner.

The meal was a melancholy affair. On the surface, it was enjoyable enough, but inside, it left her mourning all over again. Flitwick, McGonagall, and Sprout all asked her about herself, and she had to pretend she knew little about them in return. Worst was Professor Sinistra, who showed no interest in getting to know her at all, preferring to spend the meal with her nose in a book. It was all just one more painful reminder of what she'd lost.

As for the headmaster, Dumbledore simply twinkled through the entire conversational minefield.

Severus scowled through the entire meal. It seemed the only expression he seemed capable of having while actively Occluding was a scowl. Honestly, it explained so many things.

Most of the meal was spent discussing the upcoming term, with wagers being placed on the House Cup. Severus demurred from joining in the fun, despite the attempts to draw him out. Hermione gathered that it was unusual for the newest professor to attend meals and the others were trying to make him feel welcome with no tangible success.

When the meal was over, he walked her home. Once away from the others, her funk lifted quickly. They fell into an easy conversation about his hopes for the upcoming school year, the changes he'd planned, and her own experiences with both him and Slughorn as her teachers.

"Just don't bully them," she said as they rounded the corner of Gladrags. "Some teachers are like that, needing to feel superior by lording their knowledge over their students."

"Is that what I did before?"

"You? Nooo. You just intimidated them because you were naturally superior. You didn't have to prove it."

He laughed, and she felt as if she could burst from how giddy it made her feel.

He looked at her with an open, honest smile of pleasure and said, "You do realize that your eyes go wide when you lie, don't you?"

"Do they? Damn. I'll have to work on that."

"You should. And you should work on the fact that it's obvious when you're hiding your thoughts as well. I know you've been Occluding me the whole way home."

She wrinkled her nose. "Dumbledore said I should to keep you from being exposed to something that might get you hurt. Sorry, I'm not very good. I've only learned from books. But since we're critiquing, you probably want to work on having more expressions when your shields are up yourself. You look like an angry mannequin."

He snorted. "Duly noted."

"So why have you been trying to sneak a peek at my thoughts?"

He stopped when they reached the steps to her flat. With a mild scowl and a glance down at his feet, he replied, "I was trying to see if you'd had a good time today."

"You could have just asked."

He scoffed. "Too Hufflepuff."

She giggled. "I did have a good time, Severus. I had a very good time. I would really like to do it again."

He smiled at her, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. "So would I. However, I'm not sure when I can get away. The term starts in six days, and it will be chaos after that."

"I'll be around. Surely you can wrangle a Hogsmeade weekend?"

He nodded. "I'll do just that." Waving his hand at the stairs, he said, "Off you go now."

She turned and started up.

"How much character?" he asked, when she'd reached halfway.

"I'm sorry?" she asked turning back.

He lifted a hand and rubbed at the line between his eyes. "You said it added character. I was wondering how much?"

She grinned at him. "Rather a lot, if my opinion counts."

He smiled and backed away. "It does," he replied. "It most certainly does."

She giggled and bounced the rest of the way up the stairs. "Good night, Severus."

"Sleep well, Hermione," he said before disappearing around the corner.

When she was inside, she closed the door and leaned back against it, grinning like a loon. She'd gone to bed the last three weeks fearing that he hated her. Tonight, she would tuck herself in wondering just how much he liked her.

With a bubbling joy in her chest that she hadn't felt in ages, she reset the wards on her door.

:

* * *

:

Hermione has just finished ringing up a customer when the bell on the door chimed. She looked up, smiling automatically, but it turned into something far more when she saw Severus bearing down on the counter.

"Professor Snape! I've been wondering when I would get a chance to see you. How were your first two weeks of school?"

"Torturous," he snapped. "I've brought a visual display of my distress." He pulled a fat vial out of his pocket and wandlessly magicked it back to full size. It was a two gallon glass supply jar, empty, but for one, thumbnail-sized remnant of what looked like dried skin. She looked at it, and then at him, tilting her head to the side.

"That," he spat, "Is all that's left of an entire year's worth of boomslang skin."

Her eyes went wide. "No."

"Oh, yes. Yes, indeed." He let out a half-squawk, half-grow of frustration and sneered. "A hundred and twenty galleons worth of ingredients gone in two bloody weeks! I haven't the damned funding to replace it. Half my syllabus is in ruins because the spotty little dunderheads haven't a clue what they're doing! And that's my _NEWTs_ class! It's a complete waste of my time. I spend all day trying to keep the hormonal little berks from frotting each other in the middle of class or dueling each other in the hallways. I'm beginning to suspect they're _intentionally_ trying to poison themselves to death in my class just to get me hauled up before the Wizengamot. The noxious gunk they've spilled on the floor has eaten through the soles of three pairs of shoes. I've had to send to _Norway_ for a pair boots made from dragon hide, and they've cost me a bloody fortune! I've spent more money being a teacher than I've actually earned!"

When his tirade lost momentum, he slumped down into a near-boneless heap on the counter before her. "I hate it," he mumbled from under his hair, sounding small and defeated. "I don't want to be a bloody teacher. Can I come work with you?"

She reached out and patted his head. "Of course you can."

He lifted his head far enough to see her through his hair. "Really?"

"Absolutely. Mr. Applethorn likes you."

His head slumped back down with a thump. "Liar."

"Damn. How did you know? I've been working on the eyes-too-wide thing."

"Too much blinking," he muttered. "Have you had anything to eat?"

"No. I was about to take a break."

"Good." He pushed back up and reached out to spin the jar in a circle. "Want to go get a bite together?" he asked the jar.

"It would be an honor indeed. And you still owe me a pint." she said with a smile. "Mr. Applethorn, I'm off to lunch!"

"Alright, dear!"

She tugged off her apron and hung it on the peg before snatching her bag and hurrying around the counter.

"He always calls you 'dear'…," Severus hissed in her ear as he followed her to the door. "That's a bit familiar, isn't it?"

"Leave off, he's eighty-one!"

"Still…"

She giggled as he opened the door for her.

Once out on the street, Severus underwent a dramatic change. His face grew serious and his eyes began to dart from face to face to face on the busy street. He didn't walk down the pavement, he stalked. Skipping along beside him, she watched as people almost unconsciously jumped out of his way. Hermione felt giddy with delight. This was him. This was the man that had stalked the halls and terrified everyone. This was Professor Severus Snape.

She danced ahead of him and started walking backwards, grinning at him. "Severus! You have gravitas!"

He flicked his eyes at her with startled confusion and then his eyes widened and he lunged forward and grabbed her. "Mind the lamppost."

She settled in next to him with a laugh. "Sorry, I was just excited to see you after all this time."

"Really? So I finally grew into my britches, did I?"

"Yes, but you smile far more often. I prefer this you, you know."

"Do you?" He darted a look at her from the corner of his eye. "How much?"

"Rather a lot, in fact."

"Good," he said. "One does get tired of competing with one's self."

"Oh, there was never any competition. Your other you couldn't have given a pig's arse about me. In fact, there was probably more potion's value in a pig's arse to him."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Remember, you'd been teaching for twenty years by that point, and I was an abnormally annoying student."

"Were you?"

"I was."

"How so?"

"I never wrote a paper under three feet."

"Oh, gods…"

"I stole your ingredients so I could brew Polyjuice potion in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom in my second year."

He stopped dead in his tracks.

"_And_ I set your robes on fire in my first year," she said with a giggle. She twisted around expectantly, looking for his reaction but found he wasn't paying attention to her at all. She followed his gaze and felt her smile freeze in place.

She knew who she was. She'd seen pictures. Nevertheless, she felt sure that even if she hadn't, she would have known Lily Potter anyway. The thick, silky red hair, the green eyes, full of delight, the sickeningly perfect figure for a woman who'd only just had a baby a month before…

…and the way every fiber of Severus's being started to vibrate.

_Oh_.

Hermione felt a knife of jealousy lodge in her gut. These last two weeks she'd been living in a bubble of happiness at the idea that she'd not only made friends with him, but that there was a chance that it was turning into something more. The man she'd known had been terrifying. The man she'd learned about after he'd died had been tragic and grossly misunderstood. The man she'd met when she'd gone down the rabbit hole had been nothing like what she'd had in her head. He was both less and more. She liked him. She liked him a lot. However, the pin that could burst her bubble was now waving cheerfully and hurrying in their direction.

Of all the other women to have to deal with… How could she hope to compete with this one?

"Severus! I thought that was you!" the woman said in a light and pleasant voice. "I saw you from down the street, but I wasn't sure. You look so _different!_" She smiled, disarmingly. "And yet just the same. How have you been?"

"I've been well," he replied in a gentle tone Hermione hadn't heard from him before. "You've just had a son, I heard. It hardly looks like it."

Lily laughed and patted her trim belly. "It's obvious enough if you know where to look. Harry's six weeks old now and growing like a weed. He's every inch his father, disobedient black hair and all."

_That's right,_ Hermione snarled in her head. _Talk about your husband. Tell us what he likes for supper, why don't you, and then shove off. I've got a date._

"So I hear you're teaching now. I've just been to see Albus, and he told me some wonderful things about you." She gave him a meaningful look that lacked anything resembling subtlety.

No wonder Gryffindors had a bad reputation.

"Did he?" Snape replied. "I am. Teaching. It's—"

_Oh, gods. He's actually stammering…_

"I always knew you'd go into teaching," Lily said. "Once you straightened up a bit." She sent him a look pregnant with private messages. "I bet you enjoy it."

"Oh, I-I do. Yes. Very much."

"I'm very proud of you."

He flushed to the roots of his hair. "Are you? Yes, well—"

"Who's your friend?"

Hermione felt the weight of her gaze as she was sized up and dismissed with a warm smile. _That took skill._

"This is Hermione. She works at the apothecary up the street."

"Does she? How do you do? I'm Lily Potter. I'm an old friend."

"Nice to meet you," Hermione said with the best of intentions. "I'm his _new_ friend."

"Are you? How lovely." She turned to Snape. "So you found a girl who plays with potions ingredients. How wonderful. I bet you get a discount now as well. Very frugal!"

"What? No!" he blurted. "It's not like that at_ all_."

"Isn't it? Oh, I see. So tell me, how's your father? I read about your Mother passing on. I'm so sorry. Did you get the card I sent?" she asked, placing a hand on his bicep. "I hope your father's well…"

Snape shrugged. "I don't know, actually. He's gone to live with my Aunt Peg. I've got the place now."

"Do you? And you're keeping it? I wouldn't, but perhaps the old neighborhood's changed. I admit I never go back there since my parents moved away."

"It's the same…"

"You should come and visit me one of these days in Godric's Hollow. We could catch up a bit, yeah? James is off running errands with Sirius and Remus, and I do get lonely rattling around in that house with just the baby. Marlene's watching him now. My first chance to get out since he was born. Do you remember Marlene from school?"

"McKinnon?"

"That's the one..."

Slowly realizing it was a lost cause, Hermione waited patiently through another five minutes of catching up on old times before she turned and walked back to work. She didn't cry. She was too furious. The more she replayed the entire episode over in her head, the closer to irrational she became. Everything became bound up in it. All of her resentments about her lot in life had been kept at bay these last weeks by the simple hope that was her goofy, smiling Severus Snape. She couldn't stop the reaction to having that small hope dashed.

She'd been back behind the counter for twenty minutes before she saw Severus staring in the window in anger. He immediately stalked back out of sight. It was fifteen minutes after that when he came bursting through the door, carrying a takeaway bag from The Three Broomsticks.

He stomped up to the counter and dropped it down. "Why did you run off?" he snarled.

"I'd always heard three's a crowd," she snapped back.

"It _wasn't_ like that!"

"The hell it wasn't! You told her you _liked_ teaching!" She threw her hands up in the air. "You hate it! That point was as obvious as the nose on your face when I was eleven! And what the hell was up with her 'you should come visit me, my husband's gone, and I'm lonely'? That's as clear an invitation as you're going to get in the middle of a busy street in broad daylight! At least in_ this_ part of town. It was humiliating to be forced to stand there and watch."

"That's _not_ what she meant!"

"Don't be fucking stupid, Severus. It might not be what she wanted, but it's what she intended you to think it meant!"

"Lily's an old friend!"

"Lily's a judgmental cow! Didn't you see the way she wrote me off?"

"You don't understand anything!"

"I understand _everything!_" she yelled. Picking up the food he'd brought her, she threw the bag back at him. "I understand that when you ask a girl out, you do _not_ forget she exists the moment you see someone you like better. It's bloody_ rude!_"

"Hermione…"

"No!_ Don't!_ I want you to look me in the eye and tell me what we were talking about the moment before she appeared. I want you to tell me you didn't light up like a chandelier when she smiled at you!"

He stared at her in anger and frustration and obvious, painful remorse. He couldn't do it. She knew it, and he knew it. Dropping the bag back down on the counter, he turned on his heel and walked out with his cloak billowing around him like an extension of his anger.

_That's_ when she cried.

She looked up at the sound of footsteps and found Mr. Applethorn looking at her with sympathy. "Take your meal into the back, dear. A good cry and a bite to eat will make you feel much better."

She picked up the bag, hoping he'd cast a stasis charm on whatever he'd brought for her, and hugged it to her chest as she fled to her workbench with her crushed heart.

:

* * *

:

Ouch.


	8. Trials and Tribulations

**AN:** Did you know that cuts you off at 100 review replies in a 24 hour period? Man, you guys really spoke out about Lily! There was no way I could reply to you all, especially since I'd tried to catch up on the previous chapter's reviews first. You're awesome. Of course, if I posted one chapter a week like a normal human being, then I could reply to everyone and not feel so guilty…

* * *

:

Hermione ran the candle along the small window to her flat with one hand, while gripping her wand in the other. There, just there, she felt a slight bite of a cold breeze. As November crawled to a wet and miserable conclusion, her little flat was beginning to show its flaws. Draughts were one of them. Lack of decent heating was another. The sudden guttering of the flame signaled the location of another crack in the molding, and she layered on another charm. Running the back of her hand along it confirmed the breezy invader was gone. She hunted for more along the floorboards on the exterior wall.

She found what she hoped was the last of them and sighed. Zapping the ancient radiator with another Heating Charm, she was just warming up her bed before crawling into it when there was a loud crack of Apparition outside the door, setting off the chime of her wards. Startled, she jumped and dropped the candle. She grabbed it again, noticing the spill of wax on her second-hand rug even while twisting into a fighter's stance.

There was a muffled groan and then something heavy slammed against her door and slid down.

She still didn't move.

There was a knock, an irregular, timid sound, not the firm knocks of someone who thought they had business there. Puzzled, she scuttled closer to the door. "Who's there?"

Whoever they were, they were still leaning on her door. She heard them scraping along it as they turned and replied, "Hermione… please."

Her hair stood on end, and she dropped her wards and snatched the door open. Severus was huddled in a twitching ball on the landing, leaning against her doorjamb. He looked up at her with such relief on his face that her heart started beating again with a painful thump. She darted out onto the landing past him and swung her wand around, looking for any other sign of danger. Keeping her eyes moving, she crouched and blindly reached for his shoulder.

"What happened?" she asked in a quiet voice. Deciding it was safe for the moment, she darted a look at him. The moonlight showed the dark splotch of dried blood on his chin and down into the white collar of his shirt, and his muscles seemed to be spasming uncontrollably. Realizing what she was seeing, she blurted. "Oh, gods! Don't answer! Don't speak at all! I've got you."

She straightened up and cast Mobilicorpus, sending him into her flat before turning and kicking the door shut. She settled him carefully onto the bed and then set the wards again, adding another layer for good measure. She hit him with a strong Cleaning Charm first, he'd lost control of his bladder, and then tugged his boots off, muttering in fury. There wasn't enough heat in her flat to help with the aftereffects of Crucio, and she didn't have any Healing Potions on hand.

Her head came up, and she stared at her bathroom door, remembering that she _did_ have unlimited hot water. With another panicked swish, the door flew wide open and the bath plug jumped snugly into place as piping hot water, began to run at full bore. Another swish added just enough cold not to scald him. Gods forbid she hurt him any more.

Hurriedly drawing off his cloak and emptying his pockets, she lifted him with a gentle spell. She whimpered as he cried out from the movement and carefully transferred him into the bathroom, lowering him into the steaming water while still fully dressed. He groaned and flailed spastically.

"Shhh. It's what you need."

Once he was settled, she dropped to her knees and began ladling the water over his head and shoulders with her cupped hands. "Breathe," she said. "Deep breaths. In through the nose and out through the mouth."

She spent the next hour crooning to him as she cast and recast spells to try and soothe the strained muscles and tendons he kept pulling and re-pulling. She constantly zapped the water to keep the temperature up high enough to penetrate into his bones. In between, she would refill the tub and dry the water he splashed everywhere. Every so often his eyes would open, glazed with misery, and he would send her another look filled with gratitude and a million unspoken thoughts. She would shush him, and his eyes would slide closed again.

In time, his limbs slowly uncurled and his body stopped spasming. Finally, his body went limp and his hitched breathing leveled out. He was sound asleep. She sighed with relief that the worst was over. Now all he needed was rest. She pulled out the bath plug and let the water drain out, drying him and applying Warming Charms as it emptied so he didn't catch a chill.

Drying herself and her floor one last time, she lifted him out and settled him into her bed, piling the heavy quilts on top of him. That done, she then sat down at her little table and stared at him. He was here, he was warm, and he was safe. She felt her own body start to shake from the repercussions of that much adrenalin coursing through her system. Laying her head on her folded arms, she allowed herself to cry.

Whatever had happened, he'd come to her tiny little flat.

That meant the world to her.

:

Hermione woke up, clutching her wand in her hand, at the sound of a mug of tea being placed on the table near her head. Blinking in confusion, she sprang upright, wincing as her neck and back tried to revolt. Memory came back and her eyes widened. She'd spent the night at the table, huddled under both of their cloaks, while she watched him thrash in his sleep. She'd reinforced all her wards with an almost manic zeal and then had sat vigil over him, determined to keep him safe if anyone else arrived. Obviously, she'd failed. At some point, she'd fallen asleep.

The watery light of early morning revealed Severus sitting across from her looking thoroughly uncomfortable.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

He shrugged and stared down at the mug in his hand. "Much better, thanks to you." His words were thick, as if his tongue wasn't working properly. She assumed it wasn't. Her own experience told her it was highly likely that he'd bitten his tongue badly the night before. He'd treated himself, if the empty potion vial in his pocket had told the tale correctly.

She sagged in relief. "I'm so glad."

"How did you know that would help?" He gestured towards the bathroom. "The heat."

She shrugged. "You don't want to hear that story right now," she answered. "Ask me again when it's not fresh in your mind."

She saw the horror trapped in his eyes as he nodded his acceptance.

"Can you tell me what happened?" she asked.

His eyes slid away from her, and he took a swallow of his tea, wincing in discomfort.

"Never mind. You don't have to tell me now. Not if you're still in pain or not ready. Can I get you anything? Do you need another potion? I could run to my shop…"

He let out an injured laugh. "You've already done enough." He gestured at her bed, now neatly made up. "More than enough. I'll be fine."

He fell silent, and she reached out and poured more tea into their mugs, letting the comforting quietness seep into his bones the way the heat had.

He heaved a burdened sigh, and she asked, "Do you have classes this morning?"

He nodded. "And you? Are you working?"

"Yeah. I have to be there at noon. I'm working until seven tonight. Mr. Applethorn keeps strange hours."

"I see." He shifted in his chair and then stood. "It's almost six. If I leave now, you have time to get a proper rest."

"Are you ready to leave? You can stay as long as you like."

His eyes went slightly wild as he stared at the door. "If I don't, I won't ever be able to," he whispered.

She rose and came around the table, gently gripping his shoulder in an offer of support. He turned his head slowly and looked at her hand. "I don't much like being a hero," he said quietly.

She flinched, and tightened her grip on him. "I didn't either."

He looked at her then, and she swallowed hard against the tears she saw in his eyes.

"Did you ever eat the food I brought you that day?" he asked.

She gave him a sad smile. "Of course I did."

"Good."

She shrugged out of his cloak and offered it to him. When he put it on, he turned to her. She expected thanks or a good bye, not his quietly spoken, "I've missed you."

She struggled to keep control of her face and her emotions. "I've missed you, too," she said, nodding furiously.

"May I come back?" he asked.

"Please do."

She broke when she saw the relief on his face, the way he closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. The tears spilled and her lip wobbled as she said, "I'm so sorry."

She meant for everything. For the way she'd reacted the last time they saw each other, the way he'd been treated last night, the way she'd stomped into his life like a bull in a china shop…

He shook his head. "Don't be." He looked like he wanted to say more, but he just shrugged his cloak shut and buttoned it. "Dumbledore will be expecting me," he said. "I can't linger any longer, in spite of what I would wish."

"It's all right," she said. "We'll talk more another time."

He nodded to her, and after a hesitant, awkward moment, he took his leave. Hermione stared at the door for a long moment, waiting for the sound of his boots on her stairs. When it finally came, she sighed. Kicking off her slippers, she crawled into her bed and snuggled under the quilts, falling asleep surrounded by his scent.

:

* * *

:

"Thank you, come again." Hermione followed the last customer to the door, ready to lock it after her, and saw Severus standing just outside.

"What a wonderful surprise! Come in." she said eagerly, looking beyond him to the empty street. She closed and locked the door after him. "I was about to close up shop. Your timing is perfect."

He gave her a small sneer. "You told me this morning when you got off. It was hardly a brilliant deduction."

She laughed. "True. But you have to admit that after this morning we're both allowed a bit of nervous babbling. Let me just get my cloak and lock up a few things."

"Take as long as you need."

She paused at his tone—it wasn't even close to showing a hint of warmth—but he'd turned away and was already inspecting the shelves of ready-made potions. She hurried off to finish her duties.

Sweeping her cloak about her shoulders, she walked up to where he was standing, stiff and uncomfortable by the door.

"How are you?" she asked, intimidated by his demeanor.

"Fine. I'm fine now."

"Good. I mean, that's better than good. I'm very relieved. I was… worried."

A slight twitching of the lips was all the grimace he allowed himself. "I came with a message," he said.

"Oh? I… thought you came to visit."

He scowled. "I've been told to invite you to the Solstice Ball," he said. "An affair for alumni on the twenty-first. It's to be held at Hogwarts."

She could make nothing of the flat expression on his face. "Told?"

"By the Headmaster. I've been commanded to mingle with those Death Eaters that will be there. If you agree, you're to masquerade as my girlfriend. It's to be hoped that you can ingratiate yourself with my associates so they will invite the two of us to further holiday events."

"I see," she said.

"Do you?"

"Not really. But I understand enough to do my part, I'm sure."

Quick as a wink, his restrained calm cracked, and she saw a flash of rage.

"What exactly _is_ your part?" he snapped. "How long have you been in the Order?" He stepped closer and loomed over her. "I want the truth. Did you dump yourself at my feet that day on _orders?_ Was this alternate future of yours nothing more than an elaborate fish tale to lure me in? _Are you playing me?_"

The naked fury on his face terrified her. _This _was a Snape she knew, judgmental, dangerous, and more than slightly paranoid.

"_No!_" She backed away but he stalked after her. "I've never officially been a member!"

He stared at her with increasing fury, and she realized her eyes had gone wide and she was blinking as if she was having a fit. In a panic, she grabbed his face and held his gaze as she dropped the Occlumency shields she kept in place whenever they were together. She felt his mind dart in without hesitation, a knife of thought cutting through her lingering defenses. She knew that without some restraint, he would find out more than it was safe for him to know, so she grabbed at her memories and shoved them to the fore, bombarding him with images.

_Dolohov's non-verbal curse coming at her with no time to react. Lying there bleeding out as the curse burned its way into her chest… _

_Casting Obliviate on her own parents and watching herself fade from their memories forever._

_Fighting Dolohov again in the middle of a Muggle coffee shop…_

_Grabbing Harry and leaping through a window and seeing the ground so very far below…_

_Shivering and starving beside a tent in the woods, reading Dumbledore's unauthorized biography while Harry recovered from the snake's bite… _

_Nearly bursting her lungs with her shrieking, while lying on the floor of Malfoy manner. Bellatrix Lestrange cackling madly above her while Lucius and Narcissa looked on… _

_Burned and bleeding as she leapt off an angry dragon and into a bone-achingly cold lake… _

_Running and dodging and screaming as the world went mad around her in a seemingly endless paroxysm of hatred because of people like her… _

_Watching in horror as Professor Snape's life, blood, and memories seeped out of him until his eyes grew dull and his last breath rattled out…_

She closed her eyes and pulled her hands away from his face, turning away from him as she unbuttoned the top few buttons on her robes. Turning back, she parted the fabric and revealed the scars marring her flesh from her collarbone to her sternum. The puckered slash from Dolohov and the mottled, shiny marks from Crucios delivered at point-blank range. His eyes were round with horror as he stared at them. Eventually, she couldn't take it anymore and twisted away, quickly covering herself back up.

"Not a fish tale," she whispered. "I've told you the truths it was safe to tell. When I would have been forced to lie, I chose not to tell you anything at all." She looked back at him over her shoulder, seeing only pity on his face. "You don't understand how many people died, but I think you're beginning to see how it was possible. Your Dark Lord is insane, and what he wants will destroy our world. The world came completely unhinged in my time. In that last year, had I been ordered to fall at your feet to prevent it all, I just might have." With a sigh, she shook her head. "But that's _not_ what happened."

He shuddered and closed his eyes. "So old…" he whispered. "Why did I look so old? I wouldn't have been forty yet."

"How many nights like last night do you think it would take before you grew old before your time? How long would you last, thinking you'd killed the only girl you ever loved, before the grief was etched on your features?" She sighed. "You had a terrible life, Severus. I sincerely hope this one is better. At least the woman you love is still alive," she said quietly. "I've done that much for you, if nothing else."

His chest expanded as he sucked in a deep breath. When he blew it out, he seemed smaller for the effort.

Deflated.

"Hermione, you—I'm sorry. I was wrong to doubt you. Very wrong." He turned and reached for the door.

"Severus?"

He paused, turning his head slightly back toward her.

"I'd be honored to go to the ball with you."

His face screwed up in frustrated anger as he punched lightly at the door. "I'd wanted to ask you anyway…" he said with soft grief. "And then…" He dropped his arm and sighed.

"And then Dumbledore found a way to use your personal life for the cause."

He nodded and looked down in shame.

"He does that," she added. "I don't think he can help himself sometimes. I wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't sent Lily after you that day to try and make you feel more accepted."

He looked miserable as he nodded. "Just as you said," he whispered.

He crossed his arms and let his shoulder fall against the door, still staring down at the floor. "I was so… pathetically grateful to earn his respect. Wasn't I the big man, now that I was one of Dumbledore's precious chosen few? Only, this morning, after I'd reported to him everything I'd found out, I realized I was just another tool. One of many." He looked up at her. "I feel like I've swapped one master for another."

She chuckled darkly. "You have, but this one's focus is altruism in its most mercenary form. He'll save us all, even if he has to destroy some of us to do it."

He let out a snort that held no humor at all. "So it seems."

Tilting his head towards the floor, he glanced up at her through his hair. "May I take you out to eat? I promise to actually do it this time."

She stepped forward and nodded. "I'd really like that."

He smiled, a little one, but a smile nonetheless.

She doused the candles with a flick of her wand and locked up after they'd slipped out the door.

He held out his arm with gallant awkwardness, and she wrapped her arms around his elbow. His smile widened, and he whirled them both away with a soft pop.

:

* * *

Extra thanks to Hebe for giving this one extra polish.


	9. A Table for Two

**AN**: A now, a nice, quiet evening...

* * *

They landed in a car park, and he flicked his wand at himself and then her, casting a glamour on their clothing. He now wore a heavy pea coat and khaki trousers, and she wore a long wool coat over a jumper and jeans.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"Aberdeen. I thought we'd be less likely to run into anyone we know if we avoided Wizarding folk completely. You don't mind, do you?"

She beamed at him. "Not at all."

He gestured toward the stairs and they started walking. "Do you like seafood?"

"I do."

"There's a place up here. I've never been, but I remember hearing about it once, and I always remembered it."

"Where did you hear of it?"

He grimaced. "At my mam's funeral. A couple of the local folk—you know those the women that go to every funeral?—they were talking about it." He sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. "They were the only people there besides me, the reverend, and the undertaker. I remember everything they said."

Utterly lost for something to say in the face of that, she just winced and followed him out of the car park.

:

"We have reservations," he said, surreptitiously tapping his wand against the book on the podium. "Prince."

The maître d looked down and gave the book a quizzical look before giving them a bland smile. "Ah, yes. Right this way."

Hermione and Severus followed him to a secluded corner of the noisy restaurant, smiling politely as the man laid their menus down on the table. Snape took her coat for her, and hung it on the peg next to their booth. Once seated, they dithered over drinks, finally settling on a couple of pints, because, after all, he still owed her.

Hermione looked over her menu and saw him contemplating the choices with the same, ferocious intensity that she'd seen on his face when he was grading essays. She had to raise her menu to hide her smile.

"Have you a preference for a starter?" he asked.

"These steamed mussels look scrumptious, and I think I might like the Shetland salmon for the main. Have you decided yet?"

He closed his menu, looking a little wide-eyed. "I'll have the same."

"Too many choices?" she asked.

"I don't know what half of it is," he admitted in a quiet voice.

"Me neither. I picked the two things I knew." She wrinkled up her nose. "I tell you what. You get the mussels and the salmon, and I'll get something we've never heard of, and if we hate mine, we'll eat yours."

He gave her a look of profound gratitude and said, "Deal."

She giggled and admitted, "The truth is I never really got the chance to eat out much, even as a child. My parents were into macrobiotic food and so the only time I ate a normal meal was at a friend's house. It's one if the many reasons why I adored Hogwarts, all that cholesterol was paradise on a plate to me. I started exploring restaurants on my own last year, and they were usually places where you got your food on a tray, or in a greasy bag, and they _never_ had tablecloths. It always seemed too weird to sit in a place like this alone, you know?"

He gave her a small smirk and nodded. "You feel like everyone is staring at you wondering what happened to the person you were supposed to eat with..."

"_Exactly_," she said.

Their orders were placed and their drinks were sipped and Severus even looked like he was on the verge of relaxing. The trauma of their earlier disaster seemed to melt away, and Hermione felt like she had to work to stop grinning like a lunatic.

"What _is_ with that face you're making?" he asked. "I can't make heads nor tails of it."

She giggled and leaned forward. "Can we call this a date? You know, you taking me out to dinner and not just two friends grabbing a bite?"

He went a little pale and looked mildly upset.

"Or not," she said quickly. "We don't have to. I was just being silly."

"Not at all," he blurted. He sighed and slumped his shoulders. "It's just that… I'd already thought it was one."

"Really? Oh! That's even better." Now she _knew_ her smile had slipped over to the side of lunatic.

"Er, why?"

She leaned across the table and whispered, "Because I've never been on a date. This would be my first."

His eyebrows shot up, and he gave her a little smile. "Mine too," he admitted.

"I've only had the one boyfriend, and he never took me anywhere. He certainly never swept me off to Aberdeen to a restaurant that he'd always wanted to try."

That comment went over like a lead weight.

"So where is he now?" Snape asked, scowling into his pint.

"Ron? I'm sure he's down in Devon happily filling his nappy."

Snape grimaced. "Oh. Right. I'd actually forgotten that for a moment."

She laughed. "I'm starting to forget, too. I go whole days without being aware that I'm… displaced."

"Do you miss him?"

"Ron? Not anymore than anyone else. We'd split up about nine months before I came here. He'd been a good friend, but making it more was a bad idea. In the end, we lost the friendship and I lost his family to boot." She sighed. "It was one of the reasons I was so rootless. Why I was going to Amsterdam to start my grand tour. At the time I'd thought I'd lost everything and needed to go find myself. Perspective is a bitch."

He wrinkled his nose at the poor attempt at humor. "Do you still want to travel?" he asked.

Hermione thought about that. "You know? I've not really gone anywhere, and yet I feel a bit like Odysseus. No. I don't. I've decided that going and seeing new things is only fun if you have a place you can come back to or a Penelope to miss you. I think I want that first. Then maybe I'll travel."

He nodded several times. "I think I understand."

"Do you?"

"Not really, but almost. I've always wanted to travel, but I think I'm afraid that when I came back, what I'd missed would be gone."

"Exactly!" she said.

They sat back as the waiter came to the table with their appetizers. He had the mussels and she…

"Steak Carpaccio for the lady."

"Thank you."

The waiter left Severus and Hermione staring at her food in silence. "I don't think that's cooked," he said in a low voice.

"Me neither," she said.

"What's in the bowl?"

"Horseradish and beetroot."

"What do you do with it?"

"I don't know. Look around and see if anyone else is eating it. We'll do what they do." They both started craning their necks.

"There!" he hissed. "The fat woman in the orange Lurex. She's rolled it up with…" He turned back around and nodded. "Yeah. The beetroot's like a filling. That is, if she knows what she's doing. She certainly doesn't know how to dress."

Hermione smiled. "I can't look worse, can I?"

"Not on your worst day."

She smiled and dabbed a bit of the condiment on a slice and rolled it up. Snape stared at her intently as if waiting for her to melt a cauldron. She took a bite and then savored it, chewing slowly. "Oh! That's quite good. Here…"

She passed her fork over, and he ate the rest of her slice. Eyebrows rose and eyes closed, and then he nodded. "That _is_ good. Here, try some mussels..." He picked up her appetizer plate and scooped up a serving. Their eyes met as he handed it back and they both began to smile.

:

At the end of the meal, Hermione sat back against the padded booth and sipped her wine. "I'm so full I could burst," she said patting her belly. "That was all so delicious!"

"It was," he said setting his wine glass down. "Thank you. That was a rather enjoyable _first_ first date."

"It was. The best one I've ever had." Sensing that their enjoyment had come to an end, she asked. "Are you ready to tell me about last night?"

He gave her a regretful nod. With a discreet flick of his wand, he cast a Muffliato. "I met with the Dark Lord," he said quietly. "My first time since switching sides."

"I assumed as much. What went wrong?"

He let out a bitter laugh. "I did. Apparently I was too self-assured. Too changed. I needed to be taken down a peg."

She grimaced. "Did he make it past your shields?"

"No. At this point, I'm fairly sure only death will lower them without my intent. But I had too much of my terror behind it so he couldn't see it. I didn't appear frightened enough. That was a stupid mistake I won't make again."

"You lived to learn..."

He nodded. "So I did." His eyes grew sad as he repeated himself. "So I did."

He lifted his wine glass and spun it. "I'm learning a lot. For instance, I've learned a bit about what you told the Headmaster. I know about the little bits and pieces of soul they've been trying to gather, and was there when one of them was destroyed. A ring. Nasty business, I must say. I've also been meeting some of the Order members." He met her eye. "And spending time with Lily."

Her heart went cold, and she took another sip of her wine to try and mask her reaction. "That must be nice."

He grimaced. "Don't do that," he said. "I'd rather you yell at me than pretend."

Frowning, she shrugged. "Well, we sort of agreed the date was over, anyway." She sloshed her wine in circles, watching as it ran back down the inside of the glass. "Look, I already know most of your history with her. I guess that's unfair, but there you go. I know you were friends when you were young, but I don't like the way she treated you when you were in school. You called her a terrible name—I get that, I'd have been angry too—but you tried to apologize. I don't understand why she wouldn't forgive you." She crossed her arms over her chest. "I honestly don't see why you think she's so great, but I don't want to make you feel bad for liking her. I want to be your friend, and that should include not judging you for who you care about. If you want to be friends with Lily again, now that she finds you acceptable, I don't really have a right to an opinion."

Thunking her glass down, she added, "But you'd better believe I have them." She looked up at him to find him smirking.

"I suspect you have a lot of them," he said. He sat forward and placed his arms on the table, folding his fingers together and inspecting them. "I'm a little thick when it comes to girls. I'd be humiliated at that admission, but I suspect you'd already worked that out. I've spent a _lot_ of time thinking about what you said after we ran into Lily that day. It's been on my mind every moment I've spent with her. At first I was so angry with you that I think I went and saw her ugly little baby just to spite you." He sighed and looked up, his face full of disappointment. "However, since then, I've been forced to come to terms with the fact that you were right."

Hermione sighed, feeling the pain radiating off of him. "I'm sorry," she said in a quiet voice.

He closed his eyes briefly and nodded. Taking a deep breath, he shrugged. "I've loved her forever," he said, sounding lost. "I always knew I wasn't worthy, so not actually having her wasn't that hard to accept." He sat back, dropping his hands into his lap. "It's just a bit galling to realize that she would _toy_ with me. You were totally right. It would seem she's stuck in the house most days and feeling at loose ends. Her contribution to the conflict was apparently to ensure my loyalty, on Dumbledore's orders. She had no qualms with playing her part because she was in need of a bit of worshipping."

She winced, making a little sound in her throat that was a mix of anger and sympathy. "Oh, Severus. No wonder you didn't trust me. How did you find out?"

He scrubbed his hands up and down his face and blew out a breath. "She was so nice. It was almost just like old times, you know? And there were these little looks, like she really liked having me there to talk to… And all the while I had this little voice in my head telling me it was all too good to be true." His eyes flicked to hers and he flattened his mouth. "The voice was remarkably similar to yours."

She grimaced. "Sorry," she murmured. "Mostly."

He gave her a wry smile. "Anyway, when the doubts grew too much, I snuck into her thoughts. The truth was right on the surface. Christ, she loves that arsehole. I don't understand why. And to just play me like that…" He clenched his hands into fists. "I'd been such a fool…"

"No…" she crooned. "Not a fool. Dumbledore knew she was still your weakness. You had no idea he would do such a thing, How could you?"

He scowled down at his hands. "The thing is, if you hadn't pointed it out, I wouldn't have ever suspected. I'd have let her string me along and even felt grateful for the privilege." He sighed. "I sort of resent the fact that I know. I think I would have preferred being a deluded little oik, instead."

Closing her eyes, she felt an intense resentment and profound empathy warring with each other. Shrugging, she asked, "What makes her so special?" It was a quiet question, part bitterness, part serious confusion.

He pondered his response as the bill came. He paid it, waving his hand absently when asked if he needed change, and then sighed.

"I don't know anymore," he said. "Had you asked me that question months ago, I could have talked all day. Now?" He shook his head and looked over at her. "I've been asking myself the same thing over and over again. I don't have an answer. I think…" His face wrinkled up in distaste. "I think it might have been gratitude. She was my only friend. She made me feel normal whenever I was around her. She cared if I fell and skinned my knee. She wasn't always so shallow. There was a time when all she talked about was potions and her grades and socialism. Not that either if us really understood what it was at the time, it just sounded radical. She was smart. Incredibly smart. Then it all began to change... Hormones kicked in, I guess. She was just so damned beautiful. I was proud to be seen with her, you know?" He shoved out of the booth and took their Transfigured cloaks off the peg. "As we got older, she grew more beautiful with each day, and I grew more… this." He flicked his hand at his face in disgust.

"Severus, you're not—"

"_Don't_," he snapped as he helped her on with her coat. "I have a mirror and an entire castle full of opinionated teenage girls. You're honest, Hermione. I like that about you. Even if it does make you a pain in the arse."

He stalked off, hands shoved deeply into his pockets and shoulders hovering around his ears. She followed, shaking her head.

Once they were back out on the street, he began talking again. "It was only a matter of time before she grew embarrassed to be around me. I tried to make up for it by being clever. When that didn't work, I tried for powerful. Respected. They say power makes up for a lack of many other things, right? Only I didn't end up powerful, did I? I ended up terrified. I was in so far over my head... I didn't even really believe the crap they spewed. I only thought I did. It's easy when you have a pocket full of rage to spend it on the first shiny thing that comes along. I thought my problems were caused by my mother's choice in husbands. I believed that with all my heart. I thought that if she'd married a wizard I wouldn't have ended up being so miserable and ugly."

Hermione snorted. "And at what point did it cross your mind that had she married anyone else you wouldn't have ended up being born at all?"

He flashed her a smirk. "Nah, that never entered my mind. Despite the fact that I actually look like my mother, I was convinced that I would have been strong and handsome and well-respected, like Lucius Malfoy or the Dark Lord."

She threw up her hands. "The former is _no one_ to be envied, and that latter is not only criminally insane, but, if we don't get him this time, trust me, he develops a serious case of ugly. And don't forget, he shares your blood status, there's nothing superior about him at all."

"Yeah, so you've said, and Dumbledore confirmed it. That was a bit of a surprise." He shrugged his shoulders. "Anyway, becoming a Death Eater was the worst mistake of my life. I really didn't understand what I was getting into. It wasn't the Dark Arts, that aspect had always fascinated me, and to be honest, even the blood status issue didn't bother me. I was too angry at the Muggles that had made my life hell to really care. No, it was the indoctrination, I couldn't deal with. Everyone acted so superior, but in reality they'd willingly enslaved themselves. It brought out the worst in all of them. I'd joined up with a bunch of sociopaths and sadists. After the first time I saw him torture a Muggle to death, I spent most of my time trying to not make eye contact with him. I was terrified he would find out I was in still in love with a Muggleborn witch who thought I wasn't good enough to be her friend. It didn't take a genius to realize what he would do if he found out."

He sighed and hunched even further into his shoulders. "I'm a crap Death Eater. I can't even cast the Killing Curse at rats. I've tried. You have to mean it, and I never do. I was useless. A waste of everyone's time. I always made some lame excuse to get out of participating in the violence and had nothing to contribute but my skills with potions, Memory Charms, and Obliviates. My days were already numbered. When he ordered me to infiltrate the school, it was obvious that I was being ordered to go be useful or die. I was a wreck. Whatever bit of information I was supposed to have overheard in that pub the night you arrived, you can be sure I would have gone flying straight to him with it."

They were silent after that, up until they rounded the corner to the car park.

"Severus," she asked as he stopped at the top of the stairs, "what brought you to my flat last night?"

A low, sad chuckle was his first reply. "If I knew how, I would say something terribly romantic at this point, but the fact was there was little conscious thought. I'd pissed myself, nearly shat myself, bitten through my tongue… When you think about it, that was the last moment I would want you to see me. I crawled out of my audience with the Dark Lord on my hands and knees, sobbing like a baby. It took me nearly thirty minutes to get the cap off the bloody Healing Potion and then I spilled most of it on my trousers. That's why I was so bad off. I knew there was no way I would be able to make it to the castle from the gate and the idea of the students finding me like that in the morning was mortifying. Even if I somehow managed to get back to the castle, the idea of reporting to Dumbledore in that state was utterly humiliating. In the end, I couldn't think of anywhere to go. I just wanted somewhere safe to hide."

He shrugged. "That's all I was thinking when I Apparated. I could have splinched myself. I think I was hoping I would. I assumed I would end up at Spinner's End. That's my home. Instead, I found myself lying at your door." He paused and the crease between his brows deepened. "And you let me in."

"Of course, I did."

Shaking his head, he said, "There's no 'of course' about it, Hermione. I had no reason to think you would. I thought you hated me."

Her eyes filled with tears. "_No_. I didn't hate you. I was stupid and childish and—" She shook her head. After everything he'd said about how much he still cared for Lily and how hurt he was that his feelings for her were broken, she thought she just might make him feel worse if she brought up how jealous she'd been and how blind she thought he'd been. "I wasn't being a very good friend. I'm more than a bit ashamed of myself."

He sighed. "Actually, I think you were being a rather splendid friend," he said. "Making me see the truth was a kind cruelty. I'm better off for it, aren't I?"

"Are you? It seems to me that since I stomped into your life I've caused you nothing but trouble."

He smiled and held out his arm. "You're an absolute menace, but I think it's rather novel to have someone regret the trouble they've got me into. I've yet to decide if the one outweighs the other."

She wrinkled her nose. "You will let me know when you decide, won't you?"

He chuckled. "I promise."

She took his arm with a smile, and he spun them away, landing them neatly on her doorstep. An awkward tension descended on them as he stepped back.

"Would you like to come in for some tea?" she asked before biting her lip.

He stared, not at her, but at her door. "I have to report to Dumbledore," he said with embarrassment.

"About what?"

His eyes darted to hers, and he looked slightly guilty. "About your cooperation with the ball."

"Oh, I see. Which reminds me, what's your favorite color?"

He twisted his head to the side at this non sequitur. "I don't have one."

Wrinkling her nose, she asked, "Then what color should I wear to ingratiate myself with Death Eaters?"

Understanding lit his features, and he nodded. "We're all terribly fond of black, if that helps," he said with a smirk. "It's supposed to be impressive."

She smirked back. "Then I shall try to dress to impress."

He gave her a small smile and said, "I have no doubt you will."

He cancelled his charm, returning their robes to their previous state. He looked at her with a solemn expression and said, "Hermione, I want to thank you."

"For having dinner with you? That was my pleasure, I assure you. I'm glad we had a chance to finally grab a pint, uninterrupted. I've missed you, too you know."

He shook his head slowly. "Not for dinner, for letting me in last night. For spending an uncomfortable night at your table looking after a git who'd tossed you over for a woman who didn't give a damn about him. For not throwing me out on my ear when I accused you of playing me. For going out to dinner with me and asking me if we could call it a date. And finally, for not making me look like a fool because I didn't know how to order off the menu." He sighed and waved his hand at her. "I think you're extraordinary."

She smiled and leaned up on the balls of her feet to kiss his cheek. It was rough from a hint of beard, and smelled like soap. "You're rather extraordinary as well, Severus. I had a marvelous time, for the most part. We'll just ignore the accusations and unpleasant explanations and stick to the fact that we ate, we laughed, we drank, and now we've even kissed on the first date."

His eyes took on an intensity that sent her heart racing as he whispered, "Have we? I don't think I got to participate."

She smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder, and he just watched her with heavy-lidded eyes as she drew near. At the last moment he surged forward and closed the gap himself. It was clumsy, he over-puckered at first and smashed her with his nose as well, but once they figured out which way to turn their heads, it was sweet and endearing, especially the way he kept his eyes open and how his hands came up and hovered in the air around her face like anxious birds.

They broke apart with a loud smack, and she smiled impishly. With his wide eyes and hands still in the air, he looked like a startled robbery victim.

He graced her with a soft, slightly dazed smile as he whispered, "I'd better go."

She sighed. "Alright."

"I'll see you on the twenty-first."

"Not before then?" she asked, not hiding her disappointment.

He grimaced. "I've things to do for Dumbledore, as well as the end of term. I'll try to get away, but he oversees where I go and when."

She blinked at that. Surely he was allowed a stroll down into the village once in a while?

Severus sensed where her thoughts were going. "He wasn't pleased at my creeping back into the castle this morning. Apparently he's not so single-minded that he won't pace all night worried that I'm dead. Arrangements have been made in the event of a repeat of last night's reception so he can send someone to fetch me if I'm hurt."

"What arrangements?"

Severus sighed and stared down at his feet. "He knows where I am and what mood I'm in. He has a device that can track me."

"You mean like the Weasley's clock?"

He tilted his head. "It is a sort of clock, yes. It's only active when I leave the castle, and the longer I linger at your doorstep, the more likely it is that he'll think we're… up to something. As much as I would have liked to have accepted when you invited me in for tea—along with anything else you could have possibly been offering with it—I don't really like the idea that he'll know the minute I've stepped through that door."

"Oh, gods. He's put you on a leash."

"Exactly, but it's for my benefit."

"That won't do! You've a right to… to _tea!_"

His face lit up, and he gave her a blinding smile. "You really are a Gryffindor, aren't you? I almost forget that sometimes."

She scowled and lightly punched his arm. "Now you're making fun."

"No, I'm too busy being delighted _tea_ was really a possibility."

She felt herself blush. "Go on, or he'll think we're having tea in the middle of Hogsmeade."

He laughed, and then darted in and kissed her cheek quickly. "Sleep well, Hermione."

She reached up and touched her face. "I shall," she said as he dashed down the stairs. He turned in a flutter of cloak and waved at her. She was still waving back when the night swallowed him up.

:

* * *

:

*sigh*


	10. Dining with Death Eaters

**AN**: Time to have a ball…

* * *

Hermione had just set the pot of tea on the table when she heard the creaking of feet climbing her stairs. She patted at her severe bun and smoothed a hand down the front of her robes while resisting a last minute urge to throw up her Occlumency shields. She'd been practicing, so she knew they were much improved. She could hold them for about four hours at a time now, but she doubted they'd be of any use in this situation.

When the knock came, she sighed and pulled out her wand to drop her wards. She opened the door and stepped to the side with a frown.

"Thank you for coming," she said.

Albus Dumbledore paused on the doorstep with a pleasant smile on his face. "Thank you for the invitation, Miss Granger."

He entered and looked around at her tiny flat and said, "You have made yourself a charming little home, Miss Granger. I understand now why it is important to you."

She narrowed her eyes at him, wondering if he was taking the piss, but he shook his head.

"I'm being sincere," he said.

"Then I thank you," she replied. She pointed to the plate of biscuits on the table. "Shall we sit?"

She poured and pushed the sugar and milk closer to him. As he fixed his tea, she sat back. "Let's just get right to it, shall we? Why did you throw Lily at Severus like that? And what exactly did you misunderstand about my desire to not be thrown into the thick of things? I thought you read my journal, did you miss the part where all your meddling just made everything more complicated than it had to be?"

Rather than take offense, the headmaster just began twinkling. "So you really do care for him. Good. I'm glad."

"My feelings for him are not the issue here. What I—"

Dumbledore cut her off. "On the contrary, Miss Granger. Your feelings for him are paramount." He folded his hands on the table before him and said, "You are fully aware of how important an asset Severus is in this conflict."

"You say that like he's not also a human," she spat.

Dumbledore shook his head. "Don't mistake my pragmatism for indifference. The burden of this conflict will fall on many shoulders and I am the one ultimately responsible for their lives. All of them. I cannot afford to get bound up in sentiment, but that does not make me immune to such. I care as much for Severus as I do for Sirius. That's why I urged Mrs. Potter to renew her friendship."

Hermione scowled at him. "How does that follow? Do you realize how much harm you could have caused?"

He shook his head and pinned her with a stare. "Miss Granger, it was through your words that Severus changed sides. However, it wasn't exactly a voluntary choice, was it? You backed him into a wall and gambled with at least a dozen lives that he would make the right choice. It is to his credit that he did. However, being forced into a choice isn't the same as embracing a choice. Severus' loyalty was anchored to his hope for survival, not to our cause. I needed him to have a face to fight for so he would understand what was at stake. Since you had eloquently explained your motivation to remain extraneous to events, it was my hope that renewing his friendship with Lily would help anchor his conscience. Severus is in desperate need of someone to reflect his value back to him, and I had hoped she could bolster his self-confidence."

"Well, you hoped wrong," she snapped. "Lily started playing mind games right from the start and could have seriously damaged your _asset_."

He frowned and stroked his beard. "So she did. That was not my intent, nor did I foresee such behavior on her part. I had stressed to her that he needed a _friend_, an ear, someone he could feel understood the stresses he was under. In that, she failed spectacularly. I was unaware of that situation until the other morning when Severus arrived at the castle after his meeting with his master. I spoke with Remus about the issue, don't worry, he is very discreet, and he seems to think Mrs. Potter has suffered some esteem issues from her pregnancy. It appears my timing couldn't have been worse. It was an unfortunate miscalculation."

Hermione closed her eyes, trying to wrestle with her anger. She took a sip of tea in an attempt to calm herself and then said, "Yet after realizing you had made an unfortunate miscalculation, you immediately threw him at me. How is that not playing God again?"

Dumbledore tilted his head at her. "Severus threw himself at you, Miss Granger. And from what I understood from reading between the lines, you were there to catch him. Am I wrong in assuming that he has given you a face to worry about in this conflict? If I'm mistaken, then I'm at a loss as to why you have called me onto the carpet, so to speak."

Scowling, she jumped up and went to make more tea. "I have a head full of faces already, Headmaster."

"Yes, but none of those faces are in danger this time. Only the one, and he needs you… and you need him."

She flashed him a furious look, but he held up his hand. "I did read your journal, Miss Granger. Quite thoroughly. You are a remarkable young woman, capable, strong, independent and brave." He lifted a hand and waved it at her. "And yet this young woman before me is but a pale rendering of that other self. You told the Come and Go Room that you needed to fix yourself, and it dropped you at Severus' feet. Nevertheless, in the six months since that time, you have done little to reclaim who you really are."

"That's not true!"

"Isn't it? Tell me, what would your Harry Potter have thought of you settling for being an apothecary assistant? What would his reaction be if he'd known you were hiding in a one-room flat while the war played out to a new tune?"

She slammed her tea pot down into the sink. "You have _no right_ to judge me!"

"It's not judgment, Hermione. It's concern. You don't want to take part in the war, and yet you haven't traveled more than a hundred yards of where you landed when you'd arrived. Why? Why did you stay in Hogsmeade? There was nothing for you here, was there?"

She folded her arms across her chest, unable to answer. Instead, she scowled down at the fraying edge of her carpet, wondering if she had any thread with which to bind it.

"Miss Granger, it is my hope that in helping Severus, you will be helping yourself. Saving those people you care about in this time, will help give meaning to all the people you lost in your own time. You cannot function under the weight of your guilt. You made a painful choice in sending your parents away, but it wasn't the _wrong_ choice. You must learn to forgive yourself, and you must relearn to have faith in your choices."

He stood up and slid the chair against the table. "Think about it. If you truly don't want to play any part, I will accept your choice. We will find another way to help Professor Snape."

A growl bubbled up from her throat and she snarled, "And now you've backed me into a corner. So much for your concept of choosing freely."

He looked at her with sad eyes. "You're not alone in your corner, Miss Granger. Severus was."

"You're a bastard," she snapped.

He stepped over to the door and placed his hand on the knob. "War is full of bastards, young lady. And you, more than anyone else, understands that this _is _a war."

He waved a hand at the table and added, "I thank you for the tea. It was lovely."

When he was gone, she flung up her wards again before sitting down at the table and having herself a good cry.

:

* * *

:

Hermione pulled open her chest of drawers and rifled through her meager collection of robes. It took a moment to find what she was looking for. With a satisfied, "Got you!" she pulled out the gown she'd worn to the Hogwarts' Gala the night she'd ended up hurtling back in time. Laying it out on the bed, she made a moue of distaste. Not only was it horribly wrinkled, it was also a tad frumpy. She really hadn't made any effort when she'd purchased it. It was a soft, dusty-rose satin, with an antique lace overlay, high-necked and long-sleeved. Not bad, but rather uninspired.

She pursed her lips and tried to visualize what would impress a group of snobby purebloods, show up a redheaded cow, and make Severus' eyes fall out of his head.

It had been two weeks since their kiss, and her stomach fluttered and flipped every time she thought about it. Certainly her first kiss with Ron had been amazing—technically, even better since he'd had some experience with snogging before. However, her kiss with Severus had been magical. That incredible mixture of timidity and earnestness had nearly melted her toes.

One more week and she would see him again, see for herself that he was alive and well and not have to rely on eavesdropping on his students' complaints when they turned up in her shop. Most of all, she would find out if he'd been thinking of her as much as she'd been thinking of him.

Narrowing her eyes, she focused on the dress. The idea of socializing with Death Eaters made her nauseous, but if it would help, Severus, then playing dress up seemed a small price to pay. A small price but still some major anxiety. It was bad enough that she hated dressing up on a good day, but she was also uncomfortable with the notion of having to make a good first impression on such patently evil people. The very idea left her wanting to crawl under her bed and stay there for the duration.

Blowing out a breath, she sized up the dress with narrowed eyes. First, she turned the whole thing black. Wrinkling her nose, she changed it back. Too funereal. She pictured Mrs. Malfoy in her head and then added the image of Bellatrix, studying the contrast between them. She had a feeling her answer lay somewhere between ice princess and psycho-whore. With a calculating gleam, she turned it to a shimmery, pale, mint green. Nodding, she flicked again and turned just the lace black. Since it was the eighties, she added some sparkly jet beads. Stepping back, she sighed, pleased with the result.

Now, to fiddle with the neckline and match up the shoes…

:

The day of the twenty-first saw Hermione in a whirlwind of feminine activity that she normally would have scoffed at. God bless Lavender Brown's little downy head, wherever she was, because years of watching her in mild horror had left Hermione with a hitherto unplumbed arsenal of esthetic weaponry.

Her fear and worry about the evening was focused into almost precision panic. She turned her terror into obsession as she clipped, trimmed, exfoliated, and lacquered before breakfast; fluffed, curled, lifted, twirled, and pinned after dinner; daubed, blended, lined and powdered over a hasty cup of tea, and then slipped into her doctored confection.

Charming the back of her bathroom door into a mirror, she looked at the result.

A high Victorian collar of black lace embellished with jet beads circled her neck before tumbling down to rest in her cleavage, leaving her shoulders and an unnerving amount of her bosom bare. A subdued ruffle of black lace started just on the curve of her shoulders and sloped down to join the beads nesting in her décolleté, which was rather impressive due to well-placed charms that not only lifted and shaped, but hid her terrible scars as well. The black made the revealed skin look a bit pale, but she decided to call it 'creamy.' The corseted waist gave way to a simple skirt that fell to her toes with just a small train in the back. The lace pattern simplified as it went, until it was only a fine webbing of black over satiny mint at the hem. Delicately carved jet rings on her fingers, and matching, clip-on earrings, made from Transfigured bottle caps, added a bit of refined icing on the cake.

Her hair was half up and half down, pinned by a hundred little Sticking Charms and adorned with her two decorative combs. Thanks to some advice from a Muggle girl in a shop and a Charm swiped from Lavender, her curls were defined and enhanced, cascading down her back in an impressive display. Impressive, because she'd managed to pull it off herself, not because it was particularly overwhelming.

Not a bad fraud, if she had to say so herself. However, if someone were to cast a Finite anywhere in her vicinity, her best course of action would be to quickly die.

A dab of lip gloss, and Cinderella was ready for the ball.

"Just keep your shoes on, you hear me?" she ordered her reflection. Pursing her lips, she said, "On second thought…" She scurried over to her shelf and snatched up the large vial that was sitting there. With a grimace of disgust, she drank it down in three swallows, shuddering uncontrollably when she had finished.

"That better have been worth it," she muttered.

She snatched up her best cloak, charmed black for the occasion, and headed out the door.

:

Stopping before the entrance to the castle, Hermione looked up at the brightly lit doors and the other arriving guests, feeling nervous and excited. More nervous than excited. Her self-confidence had run out somewhere on the road between here and Hogsmeade when one of her charms had failed and she'd found her satin slippers full of slush. She'd managed to salvage the situation, but her confidence had taken a direct hit.

She couldn't do this. It was all fakery and fraud. What if something happened in the middle of the dance floor? She would make a fool of herself, shame him, and blow Dumbledore's plan. She really shouldn't have gone to such extremes. She'd let her competitiveness get the better of her. There'd been nothing wrong with her dress the way it had been. Dusty Rose was her best color, Madam Malkin had told her so, and she really did have far too much skin showing on top. If _that_ charm failed, nearly all of her scars would be there for the world to see… and question.

Her nerves took over, and she took a faltering step backwards, but it brought with it a twinge of loss. Experimentally, she took another, and the ache intensified. She stopped and took a deep breath. Severus was inside. The thought of leaving him in there, waiting for her, made her heart twist in her chest. She was trapped. She had no choice but to go in and risk everything, because the idea of not seeing _him_ was insupportable.

Lifting her chin, she joined another group of revelers as they descended from their Thestral carriage and entered the castle on their heels.

There were a handful of seventh-year students in the entryway taking cloaks. Hermione dithered in the doorway, lifting up on her toes and peering over shoulders for her date. As the queue moved up, she bobbed and twisted to no avail. She'd chosen flat shoes, since she knew she'd be walking from the village, and couldn't see over anyone's head. Finally it was her turn, and she slipped out of her cloak, handing it over to the little Ravenclaw student who was hovering to take it.

Skirting the edge of the crowd, she made her way over to the steps, hoping to gain a view. Instead, she found Severus. He was three steps up and craning his neck this way and that, obviously searching for her. Her heart beat a wild tattoo when she saw him. He looked splendid. He was wearing black robes heavily embroidered with black silk threading around the cuffs and lapels, which caught the light as he moved. A watered-silk waistcoat in black, a snowy-white cravat, and crisply creased black trousers finished the look. It made him look noble. Even his hair looked wonderful. Still fine, it no longer hung like a wet rag. It looked soft and touchable and _almost_ stylish.

She found herself grinning like a fool as her heart swelled to near bursting.

Stepping closer, she waited for him to notice her. His gaze swept over her twice, and the third time, his head snapped back, his eyes flew wide, and his mouth dropped open. She bit her lip and gave him a timid smile, growing more nervous as he stared at her in shock.

"Too much?" she asked.

He blinked and flowed down the stairs to her, taking her hand. "Too much for mortal hearts," he said gallantly. His eyes kept straying to her breasts and when it became too obvious, they both blushed.

"Hermione, you look incredibly beautiful."

She closed her eyes and savored the moment, knowing it for the point-of-no-return that it was, and then opened them and smiled at him impishly. "Good. One mission accomplished then."

"Hang on," he said taking her arm and guiding her up the stairs to an empty classroom. He cast a Muffliato and warded the door before he turned to her, his face serious and full of intent. "Tell me about these missions. How many more do you have?"

She smiled and smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from her lace cuff. "I only had the three. The first was to dazzle you. The second was to impress your friends and not shame you."

He barked a laugh at that. "You couldn't possibly," he said, still sounding dazed.

"I could if my charms fail," she said. "It's all smoke and mirrors. Seven hours of primping and charming and transfiguring. One of my charms gave out on the way here and almost sent me running off back home weeping. I'm turning into Lavender Brown! You don't understand, I know, but trust me, that's _not_ a good thing."

He pulled out his wand, and she felt the ripple of his magic cascade down her body. "There. Your charms are sealed now until I release them. Better? Now, what was the third item on your agenda?"

She scrunched up her face. "You might not like the third."

"Tell me," he said with worry in his eyes.

"I want to make Lily turn green."

He went still, but then the worry in his eyes turned to something that looked like calculating greed with a hint of pride.

"_Do_ _you_…? Well, don't let me stop you. I already got a startled look out of her when she saw me. If she sees me next to you it might make her head explode."

Hermione smirked. "You _do_ look amazing," she said. "And what did you do differently with your hair?"

He blushed so hard that he looked like _his_ head might pop from all the extra blood. "I charmed it. I was trying to do _something_ with it so I didn't embarrass you. I tried potions but it's just the way it is, you know? Anyway, after some trial and horrifying error I managed to at least make it stay looking clean for more than five minutes."

"Horrifying error?"

He closed his eyes. "Two days ago I managed to make it all stand straight out from my head. I couldn't get it to stop. I claimed illness and hid in my rooms all evening until the bloody charm wore off."

She covered her mouth and struggled not to laugh.

"Is it that obvious? I can cancel it," he said, lifting a useless hand up to hide it.

She smiled. "I don't mind the way it usually is, but it does look nice. Besides, if I have to get comfortable looking like this, you can get comfortable looking like that. Trust me. I have _a lot_ more charms on my hair."

He chuckled but then his face grew somber. "Alright, time to be serious for a moment. You need to remember that you've been Obliviated, so you don't recognize Lucius and Bella. I think it best you be yourself as much as possible, the truth is always the best place to hide. I would play up a certain innocence if you feel comfortable doing so. Innocence fascinates them. They feel compelled to destroy it. You'll know you're doing a good job if they try to steal you away from me. It's a sport with them and one I would prefer you not partake of in my presence. Also, you're supposed to be from Canada—sorry, I have no idea why that popped into my head—so you'll have to explain your accent."

"I've already got a story down, and the Headmaster to owled me with a genealogy I could draw from."

"Clever girl." The smile he gave her made her legs grow weak. "Another thing you need to be aware of is that Black still suspects my motivations. If he causes a scene, it will escalate quickly. I'll have no choice but to react as I formerly would. The others are under orders to keep him away from me, but he might see you as a soft target. I think it's best if you stayed away from him."

"Gods. Can't we just send him to Antarctica until it's over?"

"I wish. Just avoid him for my sanity's sake."

"That won't be difficult."

"Good. Now, our mission is to get ourselves invited to either the Malfoys' or the Lestranges', preferably both, and hopefully for a weekend. We need access to their homes to search for the last Horcruxes, the Hufflepuff cup and Tom Riddles' diary. We can't even be sure that they are there, but the others have run out of places to look. There's complications with me searching alone. Dumbledore thought with you being there that you'd be able to confirm we have the correct objects, as well as making my cover more plausible. Only couples are ever invited to these things. Do you think you can handle that? I'll understand if you can't. It won't be the most comfortable place for you to be, considering your past."

"I'll be fine," she said with manufactured calm. The very idea of returning to the Malfoys, or worse, spending a weekend with Bellatrix made her sick with fear.

"Good. One last thing while we're here, I need to take two memories from you. We've destroyed all the other Horcruxes, but we don't want to tip anyone off before we have them all. We want to make replicas of the last two that can be swapped for the real ones, and we'll need to do it quickly if they're to be ready by this weekend. The only problem is, we have no idea what they look like. We're hoping you could show us."

"That's a brilliant idea."

"I thought so too. That Longbottom woman thought of it." He dug in the pockets of his robes and pulled out two small vials. "I need to show you how to extract a memory."

"I already know," Hermione replied.

His brows jumped up. "_Brilliant._ You're always so full of surprises. Then whenever you're ready."

Hermione took a deep breath and closed her eyes, calling up her memories of Harry showing her the diary. When she had a clear one, she lifted her wand and pressed it to her temple, pulling a thin, silvery thread from her mind. Severus uncorked one of the vials and held it out for her to fill.

The cup was easier, that had been more recent and she'd destroyed it herself.

When she was all done, Severus secreted them away in one of his endless hidden pockets.

He looked at her with concern and asked, "Are you feeling alright? It gives some people a headache."

"I'm fine," she replied with a smile.

He smiled back at her with pride. "Good. Now, we need to go make a successful entrance."

"What would constitute a successful entrance for a Slytherin?"

His eyes glittered. "Walking in like we own the place is standard, but I'm not sure I rank high enough to pull that off yet. It's all about face and how you're perceived. I think just walking in like we were completely indifferent to anyone else would be a good place to start."

"I think I get it."

He turned and offered her his elbow, but she shook her head and threaded her fingers through his. "Perceptions. On your arm, I look like a date. Hand in hand, I look like a girlfriend. That's what we want them to think, right?"

His eyes blazed with pride as he cancelled his spells and led her to the door. She practically danced at his side as they swept out into the corridor and down the stairs.

Together, they entered the ball as if they owned the world.

:

The Great Hall was done up with garlands and candles and fairy lights. Crisp, white linens covered the round tables set along the walls with centerpieces made from pine and sugar plums and ice sculptures shaped like the mascots of each House.

Severus led them over to a table adorned with a twisting serpent, and Hermione kept a pleasant and excited expression on her face all the while. He was about to introduce her to the other couples at the table when they heard a distinctive voice rise above the rest of the babbling hall.

"Oh, look, Lucius! Snape brought the _poppet!_ Raby, you simply must meet her, she's charming. Snape! Do sit with us! We've room for you here! The Carrows won't mind, will you dears? Not if they know their place."

Hermione looked over to see Bellatrix Lestrange beckoning imperiously to the empty seat beside her. Snape nodded apologetically to the people at the table they were at and then led Hermione over to the next Slytherin table. She did her best not to let her terror show and was rewarded by Severus' thumb stroking her hand.

"Good evening," Snape said with stiff formality as he pulled out a chair for Hermione. "You're all looking well."

"Do introduce us, Snape," said a good-looking young man sitting across the table.

"Hermione this is Rabastan Lestrange, and his date, Perinne Parkinson. Also, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, and Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange. Allow me to present my girlfriend, Hermione Granger."

"_Girl_friend. No wonder you've grown bold lately." Bellatrix sent Snape a look of indulgent approval, and Hermione didn't miss the flash of warning that came with it. "I told you she was worth a bit of effort, didn't I?"

"You did say something to that effect. I'm always mindful of good advice."

Hermione tilted her head to the side as she sat. "Forgive me, have we met before?"

"See? I told you she was adorable!" Bellatrix crowed with a cackle that sent chills up Hermione's spine. "No, no, we haven't met. However, I did spot you in Hogsmeade one evening. Let's just say you made a rather good impression. I might have nudged our Severus in your direction a bit."

Hermione gave her the best smile she could muster. "I'm very glad if you did," she said.

Rabastan leaned across the table and gave her a leering grin. "And how _did_ you meet our Potions master?"

Hermione flushed. "It's a bit embarrassing, really. I'd taken a fall on the way home from work one evening. A dizzy spell, I guess. I wrenched my arm quite badly. All of a sudden he was there, helping me up the stairs to my flat." She sent Snape an adoring look. "The gallant knight to the rescue." She turned and smiled at Rabastan. "The rest is history, as they say."

"Did you know him before that?" asked Narcissa with a pleasant, if superior, smile.

"Oh, I knew he worked for the school—my shop fills the orders for the student supplies—but we hadn't really met up to that point."

"Tell us about yourself," Lucius said, his cold eyes belying the polite smile. The inquisition had officially started. "From your accent I gather you're from London?"

"I am. I grew up there, although I moved to Canada when I was ten. My father had passed away, and my mother had family there. I just moved back here at the beginning of last summer."

"What brought you back?" Lucius asked.

"Well," she faltered and started fussing with her tableware. "I didn't really enjoy Canada. Everything was too…" She waved a frustrated hand. "It's hard to describe, really. Informal? It's a beautiful country, but I can't say as I enjoyed my years there. I'd been saving up my coin to come back anyway, so when my mother started dating a Muggle," she allowed herself a delicate shudder, "I left."

"And who are your people?" Rodolphus Lestrange asked. "I don't know the name Granger."

"The Grangers were always a small family. My father's mother was a Borage, his grandmother was a Gamp. I believe his other grandmother was a Longbottom, although I might be getting the generations mixed up. I was a bit cut off when we moved to Canada and lost track of my only other relative on my father's side, an elderly aunt. I heard she moved to France. As for my mother, she was a Prewitt, and her mother was a Filch. Beyond that there were McMillans and Blacks and Crouches."

"Blacks you say?" Bellatrix said. "Then we might be cousins!"

"Bella, dear," Rabastan drawled, "all purebloods are cousins somewhere down the line." He turned to look at Hermione. "And how are you finding things, now that you're back in the old country? I see you haven't lost your accent."

She wrinkled her nose. "They made fun of my accent over there. It just made me more determined to keep it. I'm a bit stubborn that way. Sadly, a few things slipped in anyway, but it only took a few weeks home to knock it back into shape. As for how things have worked out," Hermione looked up at Severus who smirked back at her, "I'm very happy."

"Oh, aren't they _romantic_," drawled Miss Parkinson, hinting at the opposite.

Hermione ignored the subtle jibe and said, "I think so."

"Tell me, Hermione," said Narcissa, "where did you find such a lovely dress? I do want the name of your dressmaker."

"Yes, do tell me," Bellatrix added. "I rather like it myself."

"And there's our holiday miracle," said Lucius with amusement. "A dress both the Black sisters like."

There was a good deal of laughter at this. Hermione shrugged self-consciously. "I fear an apothecary's assistant doesn't have much leftover for clothes. I designed it myself."

"_Did_ you?" Narcissa looked her over again with a coldly calculating eye while Hermione resisted the urge to squirm. "Your skills are wasted in an apothecary, dear. You should have your own shop. You have quite the eye for style."

Hermione gave her a sincere smile of gratitude. "I will take that as a huge compliment, coming from one with such obvious taste."

Narcissa gave her an honest smile, one that transformed her face and made her almost breathtakingly beautiful. "You're right, Bella. She _is_ charming. We simply must get together one day and discuss your designs."

And just like that, she knew she was in. Severus pressed his leg against hers, and she curled her foot around his ankle.

"I would enjoy that," she lied, making a mental note to start inventing designs.

A bottle of champagne appeared at the table and Rabastan reached for it. "Finally," he said "The bubbly arrives, the speeches will soon follow, and then we get to eat!"

He popped the cork with his wand as his date cheered, but the first glass he filled was Hermione's, giving her a direct stare, charged with implication.

She wrapped her other foot around Severus' ankle as well.

:

"Ugh," said Bellatrix, throwing her napkin down and reaching for her wine glass. "I couldn't eat another bite."

"You always eat too much," her sister sniped. "And your manners are atrocious."

Bellatrix cackled. "You're just jealous because I don't have to watch my figure, while you're stuck picking at your food like a bird so Lucius doesn't notice the extra half pound you gained from the baby."

"I don't have to watch what I eat either," said Perinne Parkinson.

"Nobody cares, dear," Rabastan replied.

"Ladies," Lucius said with practiced ease. "Can we not enjoy an evening without the constant feminine discourse of weight loss, clothing, and hair tips?"

Bellatrix tilted her head back as she stared at him, pausing before she said, "No. Which reminds me," she pivoted her head toward Hermione, "how _did_ you get your curls to look so good? You must tell me."

Hermione giggled, it was easier to fake after three glasses of champagne. "It's all about the conditioning. Moisturizing is best for hair like ours, and a very light oil. After that, I admit to a charm or two."

Lucius rolled his eyes. "Snape, spare us. Take the girl out on the dance floor before Bella starts demanding the formulas."

"My pleasure," he said, rising from his chair and pulling Hermione's out. "Shall we?"

"I'd love to," she said breathlessly, putting her hand in his.

He led her away, and when they reached the dance floor, he pulled her into his arms. "You were magnificent," he said quietly.

"I was terrified," she replied.

"You didn't look it at all. In fact, they were highly amused at the little lamb that came and sat with the wolves. You have definitely intrigued them."

"I seem to have intrigued one of them more than I would have liked. How do I deal with that?"

He scowled. "You don't. I will. They have an unfortunate tendency to share their toys. I will make it plain to him that I don't indulge in such things. Until I get the chance, just act unreceptive."

"That won't be difficult."

The song came to an end, and they stopped to applaud. When a new song started, Severus swept her up again into the next dance. "I hope you don't mind. I've actually been ordered away from the table so they could talk."

"Mind? I assure you I would much rather dance with you than sit with them."

He smirked and spun her around.

"Oh!" she whispered. "There's Molly and Arthur Weasley. They look so young!"

"You know them?" he asked.

She grimaced. "I dated their new baby. I told you about Ron, remember?"

His smile died. "Unfortunately."

"Don't be like that."

"Then don't bring him up."

"Are you jealous?"

"What if I am?"

"Then I think we're unequal. You're jealous of an infant. I have to deal with a rather intimidatingly beautiful _woman_."

"Forget her."

"Can you?"

"When I look at you? Easily."

Hermione blinked several times and then graced him with a dazzling smile. "You, Mr. Snape, are a closet romantic."

"Am I?"

She laughed as he smirked and whirled her around again. With a soft smile, she said, "Do you know who _I'm_ starting to forget?"

"Who?"

"You. The other you. This you has blotted him out."

He frowned. "I hope you don't mind."

"Why would I?"

He shrugged. "Sometimes when you talk about him, I fear you like him more than me."

She laughed. "I had no idea how wonderful as he was until he was dead. Before that, I was _terrified_ of him. I much prefer being with you."

He smiled down at her. "Good. I rather like being with you as well."

She flushed as her heart started to skip beats. "Will I see more of you during the holiday break?" she asked.

"That depends on the Headmaster and how things play out. Speak of the devil. He's coming this way. This is my chance to give him your memories."

She frowned as he swirled her to a halt. "If you don't mind, I'll go powered my nose."

"Is something wrong?" he asked as his brow furrowed.

She felt a brush of his mind against her Occlumency shields and rolled her eyes. "No, nothing's wrong, and if you try to invade my privacy again, I'll be angry."

He blushed as he flattened his lips. "I was just worried."

"Worried is good. Snooping is bad. You have to accept my word, like the rest of us poor mortals."

"You're right, but it's just…" He looked up and scowled. "Here he comes. Go on. Don't be long." He smirked at her and added, "By the way, your nose is perfect."

She blushed and gave him her best sultry smile before she slipped her hand out of his and headed out of the Great Hall.

The bathroom off the Entrance Hall had been converted to a ladies lounge for the occasion and was crowded with women fixing their cosmetics and charms. Hermione stood on tip toe to check herself in the mirror before heading into a cubicle.

The chatter and giggling lowered in crescendo as a group of women left. Only two voices remained, and Hermione didn't even realize she was paying attention until one name jumped out.

"Lily, really. I don't know why you're so upset."

"I'm not upset. I just think it's a bit sad. I mean, who is he fooling?"

"Why do you care who Snape brought? I mean, come on. You see who they're sitting with. She's probably some Slytherin slag."

"I know! But did you see him with her? It's like he's never seen a girl before. He's acting like a gormless twit. And where did she come from? I've never seen her before tonight. She's obviously just using him to worm her way deeper into their circle."

"So what? Snape's probably one of them. He's a git. What do we care who wrings him out to dry?"

There was a long pause and the sound of toilets flushing. The two women's voices drifted toward the sinks.

"I'm going to talk to him," Lily said.

"What on earth for? Seriously Lily. What would James think if you were to start chatting up Snape in the middle of the Alumni Ball. You're only going to stir up trouble. Just drop it. Now come on. You have to help me find a way to get Sirius home. He's already drunk."

Hermione flushed the toilet again for effect and stepped out of the stall, staring daggers at Lily. The two women froze as she walked over to the sink and washed her hands. She lifted her head and looked straight into Lily's eyes through the mirror, smirking when the redhead turned pale.

The taller woman grabbed Lily by the sleeve and pushed her toward the door, saying, "Ignore her. Let's go."

Lily looked over her shoulder at Hermione with an expression of absolute mortification. "I—" Her words died in her throat as Hermione stared at her with contempt. Her face went even paler as her friend dragged her out of the restroom.

Hermione wasn't so furious that she didn't see the evident remorse, but she was too angry to give it much consideration. She looked at her own reflection and shook her head. Life was definitely twisting into odd shapes if she was swapping hair tips with Bellatrix Lestrange and acting almost childishly territorial around Harry's mother.

Blowing out a confused breath, she headed back to the dance to find Severus. Right from the start, he had been the one thing she could latch on to. With all the craziness of the evening, she felt it wasn't a good idea to stray far away from him.

:

* * *

:

A quick note about Horcruxes. I've had some folks send me notes telling me my timing is off, and that Voldemort didn't start hiding them until he heard the prophecy. However, we know that Regulus Black died swapping the necklace for a fake, and canon says he died in 1979. Also, I have been informed that Lucius didn't get the diary until 1981, but double checking shows that he was given it at some point _before_ 1981, when Voldemort was killed the first time, exactly _when_ isn't clear. We also know that Bellatrix hid the cup in her vault, but there is nothing to state exactly when she put it there. For the purposes of this story, it's not there yet.

So Sayeth Moi.


	11. A Rose Among Thorns

**AN**: Contains Epic Tea Time.

* * *

Hermione walked back into the Great Hall and looked around. Everyone was dancing and talking and laughing, and few people were sitting at their tables anymore. She looked for Severus but didn't see him anywhere. She paused, wondering where she was supposed to go. It just didn't seem right to go park herself at a Syltherin table.

"Look who we have here, Mooney," said a snide voice behind her. "It looks like Snivellus has lost his date."

"Or am I not supposed to assume you're his date? After all, the two of you just waltzed in here looking like the Lord and Lady of the Manor, but that means nothing. In fact, it strains credulity. A nasty piece of work like Snape garnering a date with a tasty bird like you? I don't think so. I could just as easily assume he _paid_ you, couldn't I?"

Hermione turned and narrowed her eyes at Sirius Black. Obviously, no one had bothered to tell the Order members where she stood in the matter either. Both Lily and Sirius seemed to be doing a lovely job of providing cover inadvertently.

Furious, Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but Remus snatched at his arm. "That's enough!" he hissed, spinning his friend around. "You've had too much to drink. Go find Marlene and take her home."

Sirius twisted out of Remus' grasp but froze when another voice chimed in.

"You should take your friend's advice, _Black,_" said a cold voice from behind her. "I would simply _hate_ for something terrible to befall you. Think of all the _little_ people who depend on you to defend them." She turned to see Rabastan Lestrange staring daggers at the two Marauders.

Sirius's eyes went wide, and he stopped resisting as Remus pulled him away. "You _do_ like running with the bad boys, don't you?" he said to her. Lifting a finger and stabbing it at her, he added, "I warned you. You're too stupid to see how deep you're in now, little girl. Just remember I warned you!" With a grimace of apology, Remus dragged him off, leaving her with a small crowd staring at her.

Rabastan took her elbow. "Are you alright? Here," he snagged a glass of champagne from a floating tray. "This will put you to rights."

Hermione shuddered at his touch. It was cold, and the way his fingers slid across her sleeve was bordering on taking liberties. "Thank you," she forced herself to say. "Never mind him. He's just a sot. Come. Bella asked me to rescue you, and won't think I've done so until I've delivered you to her. However, I must insist on a dance as my reward." His eyes glittered as he looked her up and down hungrily.

She gave him a bland smile and said, "If Severus doesn't mind. I couldn't possibly, without his permission."

Rather than cool his ardor, his eyes turned feral. "Then I'll be sure to ask."

_I'd like to hear _that_ conversation_, she thought to herself as he guided her across the room.

"There's the poppet!" said Bellatrix as they approached. "Thank you, Raby. I would have been ever so put out if my cousin had caused her harm." She reached out and plucked Hermione away from him, and she found herself actually relieved to be standing between Bellatrix and her sister. Reality twisted even further.

"I believe he thought he was rescuing her," Rabastan said with a sneer. "It was hard to tell, he's in his cups. I'll leave you ladies for now. I seem to have lost my own date. With any luck, she went home." With a bow and smirk, he left them.

"What a fool," Narcissa said, watching Rabastan waltz off. "He'll have his hands full if he alienates the Parkinsons." Turning to Hermione she said, "As for Sirius, he's an utter disgrace to his family. Avoid him, dear. He's no one you should know."

"That won't be difficult," Hermione said. "I find him exceedingly off-putting."

Bellatrix cackled setting Hermione's nerves on edge again. "'Off-putting.' I love that. Oh, look! There's Severus. Oh, my. It looks like we need another rescue."

Hermione followed where the other woman was pointing and saw Severus talking to Lily. Her heart stuttered, but when she saw the scowl on his face and the stiff, uncomfortable way he carried himself, she knew he wasn't pleased either. In fact, he looked furious.

She took a step towards him, but Narcissa placed a restraining hand on her arm. "Let him extricate himself. Men dislike certain types of possessive display in public. Severus is proud and easily offended by anything that makes him look weak."

Hermione hesitated, realizing this was remarkably sage advice. "I'll trust your experience."

Narcissa graced her with another approving smile. "Do. It's dearly bought but freely given. It's gratifying to help guide another."

"I thank you all the more, then." Turning her attention back to Lily, she scowled. James was beyond her, fuming as she placed a hand on Severus' arm and leaned forward just a bit too much in order to stress some word or another.

"Desperate," said Bellatrix.

"Vulgar," said Narcissa. "It's just so baseborn to run around with that much décolleté on display when you're obviously still nursing. It's like a cow showing off her bloated udders."

"Isn't that the Mudblood he was friends with in school?" Bellatrix said casually.

Hermione's reaction to that word didn't go unnoticed by the two women. "It is," she blurted, allowing her real antipathy to show in her voice. "I've met her before."

Bellatrix turned to her. "_Public_ displays of possessiveness aren't to be countenanced. However, if you think she's a threat, we _could_ take care of things more… discreetly."

Hermione felt her hair stand up. If Bellatrix was saying what she thought, then Hermione's response could have serious consequences. She stared at Severus, trying to look as if she were considering while she flailed to find the right solution.

"I don't think I ought to do anything," she said. "If Severus is foolish enough to fall for that then he doesn't deserve me."

"Well said," Narcissa murmured. "I heartily agree. I must say, I always liked Severus in school, but until recently, I'd given up on his ever achieving his rightful place in society. He's always had a palate for the finer things, and she does have a rare sort of beauty, I'll give her that, but her breeding shows. I highly doubt that, now that he's tasted the fruits available to his position, he would throw you over for something as uncouth as that."

As if on cue, Severus flung a hand up, cutting off whatever Lily was saying, and then turned his back on her and stalked away. The three of them watched as Lily looked around in unmistakable surprise. When she saw Hermione, her eyes went wide. Hermione responded by lifting her champagne glass in a mocking toast and taking a sip.

Bellatrix let out her quietest chuckle yet. "Why, _poppet_, I do believe you have a little evil in you after all."

Hermione turned to her, letting a little of her smugness show. "You might be right."

"Oh, dear," said Narcissa. "I think we need to have an intervention after all." She gestured with her glass to where Severus was now talking to Rabastan and Lucius. Hermione's gut clenched when she realized, based on the thunderous look on Snape's face, what the topic of discussion was.

She started forward and the other two ladies joined her, Bellatrix wrapped her arm around Hermione's elbow in a show of support that left Hermione' reality even more unhinged. As they cut across the corner of the dance floor, Narcissa whispered, "He looks like he's about to do something stupid. We'll break them up. You take Severus away. I'd get him out of here for a while."

"He does have a temper, our Snape," said Bellatrix.

"Try looking faint," Narcissa continued. "We'll take care of the rest."

As they approached, they heard Rabastan say, "I'll admit you're handy with your brews, but I still say looks and charm will win out over a potion any day. We'll see who wins."

"I did _not_—"

At Lucius' cough, Snape spun around and saw them. His eyes were narrowed and his fists opened and closed in fury. Seeing her, he drew himself up to his full height. "Hermione," he said in a thick voice. "I trust you've been enjoying yourself."

"I have," she said, giving him a timid smile. "Narcissa and Bellatrix have been giving me some wonderful advice." She stepped over to his side, but found herself too intimidated to take his arm without an invitation.

"Lucius," Narcissa said. "You promised me a turn on the dance floor, and it's getting late. I would like to get home to Draco soon."

"So I did, my dear. I've been remiss. Gentlemen, if you will excuse me, my lady fair lacks for a dance."

Narcissa reached out and placed a light hand on Snape's arm. "Severus, Hermione looks a little overheated. Perhaps you could give her a tour of the school? I'm sure she would find it fascinating, and these crowds do get overwhelming."

He turned to Hermione with a sour expression. "Is this what you want?"

"I would love to see more of where you work," she said, giving him a shy look.

"Fine. I'll show you the bloody library. I know you're fond of books." He grabbed Hermione by the elbow, dismissed the Malfoys with a curt nod, and stared daggers at Rabastan as he dragged her away. She found herself looking back over her shoulder at her two bizarre allies and sending them a pleading look. Bellatrix just shrugged and made a shooing motion and Narcissa winced in sympathy.

Severus pulled her out into the hallway and then headed for the stairs. As soon as they were beyond the light spilling from the hall, he dropped her arm and stormed ahead of her. She lifted her skirts slightly and hurried to catch up.

"Severus, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You can choose not to tell me, but please don't lie. I can plainly see something is the matter, and even if I couldn't, the fact that you just hauled me out of the dance like an errant child would have been a clue. Is it me? Did I do something wrong?"

"No. Everything's fine."

"If everything is fine, then why are we practically running?"

He shot her a look and sneered. "You wanted to see the school. It's a bloody big school."

They gained the top of the stairs, and she reached out and grabbed his arm, hauling him to a stop. Looking around to make sure there was no one close enough to overhear, she hissed, "You _know_ I've seen it before! I just wanted to get you away for a while. You seemed a bit undone by something. Tell me. Let me help."

He snatched his arm away. "_Help?_ You've bloody well helped me enough already, haven't you?"

He stalked off down the first floor corridor with his robes snapping and crackling out behind him while she blinked back the sudden tears. She pressed her hand to her stomach to try and suppress the pain from the emotional punch he'd delivered and headed after him at a slower pace.

She didn't see the door appear, only noticing the chirp of his shoes on the floor when he stopped suddenly.

"What the devil? This was never here before…" He stepped forward and grabbed hold of the knob, but it was locked. By the time she'd caught up to him, he'd already tried two spells to get it open.

She smiled at the door and ran her hand across the carved surface. "It's the Room of Requirement," she said, gripping the handle and turning it with ease.

"The what?"

"The Come and Go Room."

Severus tilted his head to the side. "I thought that was only a legend."

She laughed. "No. It's just shy most days."

"You say that like it's alive."

"It is. It's my friend. And yours too, I think. Let me introduce you." She pushed the door open and stepped inside. "Oh!" she cried.

The room had turned itself into the rose garden, with cool moonlight filtering down from an unseen height and crisp white roses gleaming from the thick hedges that formed a maze. The pathway was carpeted with lush grass so inviting that she kicked off her slippers and wriggled her stocking-covered toes in it. There were benches placed here and there as well.

She turned at a loud snort behind her as the door banged shut. "Plainly, it's no friend of mine," he said in disgust.

She turned to see him leaning against the door with his arms crossed petulantly.

"The room has given us some privacy to talk," she said. "I think that's an act of a friend." She held out her hand to him. "Severus, come take a walk with me. Let's find out what's at the heart of the maze."

He pushed off from the door and pulled out his wand. Ignoring her hand, he blasted a bush into white and green shrapnel. "More bushes," he said with a sneer.

Angry, she stepped in front of him and snapped, "What's the hell is the matter with you?"

"Nothing. I just hate this garden. It's a recreation of the one Flitwick usually generates for balls. He didn't bother this year, but it seems the school wants its bloody garden, so, voilà!" He waved a hand. "Go take your walk and let's be done."

She shook her head, planting her hands on her hip. "It plain something is bothering you, and you've hinted rather boldly that it has something to do with me. Tell me what's wrong. I want to know."

His pale face reflected the false moonlight as well as the flowers did, and she saw his dark eyes dart across her features and down to skim along the lines of her body. "I've been a fool," he said, turning and stalking off into the maze.

"About what?" she said, skipping along after him.

"About thinking people would believe you were my girlfriend!" he snapped, aiming his wand and blasting the hedge again. He stalked off through the hole he'd made and blasted another.

She ran after him and grabbed his arm before he could punch yet another hole. Behind them, the maze began to heal itself, closing them in.

"I don't understand! What's happened? I thought we looked rather smart together, and Narcissa and Bellatrix have been full of advice on how to keep you happy. _They_ certainly believe it."

"They're probably just toying with you. The very idea is ludicrous."

"No, it's not! Not unless you don't _want_ me," she snapped, defensive from the terrible ache that thought caused.

He growled and the sound twisted into a cry of grief as he turned to face her. "Of course I _want_ you! Who the hell _doesn't_ want you? Half the men downstairs secretly want you and the other half already asked me when they could have a go!"

She grimaced in confusion. Having him confirm his attraction had been no relief at all. "But you said that if they tried to steal me away it was a sign of success."

He shoved his nose in her face and yelled, "It wasn't just the other bloody Death Eaters, was it?"

He turned to blast another rose bush, and she let him. "I don't understand," she said following him into the heart of the garden. "I thought everything was going well!"

He scowled and lifted his hand for another blast, but then dropped it to his side in defeat. "So did I. That's what's so pathetic."

She tugged at his sleeve, turning him to face her. "Severus, what is it? What went wrong?"

His face twisted into a mask of pain. "You got my hopes up! You made me think I could really _have _someone like you!"

"But you can! Why are you being so stupid? I _want_ that!"

"Not for long!" he cried. "It's only a matter of time before I'd lose you to someone else. Someone more handsome or charming. There's _always_ a bloody _Potter_." He let loose with an inarticulate noise of frustration. "I was so _proud_ to have you with me. I was so proud to have people see you looking at me the way you did even if it _was_ an act!" He flung his hand back toward the door. "But no one's buying it! They either think I slipped you a potion, or, like Lily, that you're some Death Eater tart I picked up for the night. She thinks I'm making a fool of myself because I don't know how to behave naturally around a woman!" He dropped his voice. "I've even been asked how much I _paid_ you! It's all I can do to not blast them all to hell!"

She shook her head. "It's _not_ an act! And who cares what they think anyway?"

"_I do!_" The air cracked with the sound of his hand slapping his narrow chest. "_I care_, don't you see? I wanted them to envy me! But no one does because no one believes it! They just pity me _more!_"

She stared at him, hurt and confused. "But… doesn't it matter that I believe?"

He shook his head and let out a shuddering breath.. Lifting his hand, he reached out and tugged on one of her curls. "How can you?" he asked in a broken voice. "Hermione, one day, probably soon, you'll realize that I'm not your tragic, fallen hero—this paragon that you never got to know. I'm just a terrified puppet trying to do what I'm told as best I can without getting tangled in the strings. I can't keep a girl like you. Just like I couldn't keep Lily. I'm a nobody. And an ugly one to boot."

Hidden in all the hurt in his voice, she could hear all the empty years of longing to be special. "Oh, Severus… What have they done to you?" She reached up and cupped his cheek. Her touch seemed to wound him, but he pressed his face into her hand even as his eyes closed in pain. "You didn't lose Lily because you were ugly. You lost Lily because she _changed. _People change, especially when they're that age. You're changing now. You've changed just in the time since I've met you."

His face collapsed into an expression of grief, and he twisted away from her, sinking down onto the grass. Clutching at himself in despair, he hunched over. "I know I'm changing," he said. "I can feel it." He heaved a sigh and tugged at his hair. "I don't like it. I don't know who I am anymore…"

She dropped down on the grass before him, placing her hand on his knee. "I understand. I went through the same thing. It's why I left them all that night. I'd lost so much of what made me _me_ that I felt like I didn't fit inside my own skin anymore."

"_Yes_. That's it exactly!" he said.

"It was worst with Ron. I'd liked him forever it seemed, but then one day I realized I just… didn't. I still loved him, but I really didn't _like_ him anymore. And it was obvious it was mutual."

"That's what's happened to me," he whispered. "I've loved Lily my entire life, but now… I don't even _like_ her. She's fickle and shallow, and doesn't care if she makes a fool of her husband in public…"

Hermione squeezed his knee. "And it leaves a hole," she continued. "What do you do with all that energy that you used to use up caring about them?"

His face looked so sad. "I know what you do. You start to obsess over a silly girl who drops out of the sky in front of you and turns your entire life upside down."

She gave a small laugh and nodded. "Or a guy that blushes as he helps you pick up your knickers from the middle of the road..."

He snorted and gave her a ghost of a smile. "They were so bloody tiny. Just some string… I couldn't tell which end was up."

She laughed. "Obviously thongs aren't the rage yet."

He shook his head and sighed. "Perhaps they are. I wouldn't know. I just know what my mother wore from when I cleaned out her things."

She winced at the look of utter desolation on his face. Obviously, losing his mum was still a raw wound. "Severus… when did your mum pass away?"

He shrugged. "Last May. Two weeks before I met you."

She took his hand in hers. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I didn't fall out of the sky sooner so I could have been there for you."

His face crumpled, and he hung his head so his hair fell like a curtain between them. "Would you have?" he asked in a hoarse whisper. "Would you really?"

"Yes. I would have. I still will if you want. You can take me to her grave and tell me all about her."

His hand clenched in hers, his grip crushingly tight. "I'd like that," he said.

"So would I."

Pressing her cheek against his hand, she said, "Severus, this thing between us... It's just _us_. There's no place for them and their opinions. If you want me in your life, you'll have to have just a little more courage, enough to fight your own doubts. Those people that think you couldn't have a girl like me, they're the same ones that made you believe you were worthless. They're _wrong_. Don't think about what they see when they look at you. Do you think an eagle is thinking about how magnificent it looks when it's flying? No. It's just looking for dinner. _We're_ the ones that are amazed. Be yourself. I like who you are when we're alone together. I want to spend a lot more time with that person. I really _do_ want to be your girlfriend."

He leaned forward, staring into her eyes from behind his curtain of hair. "Hermione, I'm afraid…" His voice choked off and he scrunched up his face, plainly frustrated. "I don't want to be made a fool of, I don't want to get hurt, and I'm terrified of how much I want to be with you all the time. I've been here before and it only ever brought me pain and humiliation."

She sighed and leaned closer. "When you were here before, you were alone. Now you're not. I'm right here with you." She lifted a hand and swept his hair aside. "I'd like to try something, if you'll let me."

He blinked and gave her a silent nod, his eyes widening slightly as she leaned closer. His breath puffed out just before their lips met, and they both sighed as she pressed her mouth against his. His lips were warm and soft, and her eyes fluttered shut as he kissed her back gently, slanting his mouth across hers and stealing more. She pulled away, and he followed her a little ways before catching himself. They stared at each other in quiet amazement. His eyes darted around her features as if he were memorizing them.

"Do you know why that felt so good?"

The slightest twitch of his head to the side was his only response.

"Because in that moment, nothing could fit between us," she answered. "I care about you, Severus. A lot. I think we could really be something wonderful, as long as we don't let anything come between us. Do you see?"

He scraped his bottom lip with his teeth as he nodded. "Kiss me again," he said in a husky voice that curled her toes.

She smiled and did just that. His hands came up and cupped her face, and he slipped his fingers into her hair as their lips met. He kissed her with obvious restraint, as if he were afraid she might break, and when she rested her hands on his shoulders, she felt him trembling under her touch. She kissed him harder, and he groaned and pulled her against him.

He broke away long enough to gasp, "Why?" before kissing her again.

She knew what he meant and answered between kisses. "You make me feel comfortable in my skin… The more time I spend with you… the more fascinated I become… You're smart… and witty… and incredibly brave when you need to be… You're terribly romantic…" She could feel his growing smile as she kissed him between words. "Your voice makes me shiver… you have remarkable eyes… and a beautiful mouth that I can't seem to stop kissing…"

He chuckled and pulled away, "Please don't," he said with a blazing smile. He shifted until he was sitting cross-legged and hauled her into his lap as she giggled. Once settled, he leaned back in and whispered, "Tell me more," before making it impossible to talk.

When she gained a bit of self-control, she continued, "When I make you laugh, it makes me feel like I've done something brilliant… I think about you all the time…" She pulled away and looked at him. "And I want you to think about me just as much. So much so, that I spent seven hours today hoping to make you think I'm beautiful."

His brow furrowed, and he shook his head. "Hermione, you didn't need to spend seven minutes trying to make me think you're beautiful, I already did. It's just that…" He scrunched up his face in frustration. "When we're alone together, it feels as if I've known you forever, but once we're out in the world…"

She smiled at him and cupped his face in her hands again. "Then let's ignore the rest of the world."

His eyes sparked as he said, "Alright."

With a quiet sigh, he enfolded her in his arms and dipped his head down, kissing her as if drinking from her heart. She teased his mouth open and deepened the kiss and his reaction was electric. His arms tightened, and he crushed her to his chest as they stole each other's breath and returned it charged with escalating tension. Their small groans of pleasure and little mewling cries became a duet, and Hermione felt as if she might float off the earth if it wasn't for the way he held her anchored. One hand began kneading her back and then soothing her, sliding up her backbone and then down her sides, while his other cradled her neck keeping her where he wanted her.

She dug her hands into his shoulders and exploring the play of muscles over the sharp bones under his finery. She pushed him down onto the grass and twisted carefully, shifting until she'd managed to straddle his lap without tearing her dress or having to pull her mouth away from his. Once comfortable, she pressed her breasts against his chest, and he groaned into her mouth. She was vaguely aware they were both shaking as his hand slid down and down some more and further still, until with aching sweetness he cupped her bottom and pulled her flush against him. He flexed his hips and their mouths stilled as they both reveled in the contact of his hard length between her legs.

"_Oh,_ _Hermione …_" he sighed as she ground herself against him. He held her tightly against him, kissing her with abandon. She found herself flailing when he broke the kiss. "We should stop, before I get carried away."

She traced his lower lip with the tip of her tongue, before whispering, "I don't want to stop. I wantyou to get carried away."

There was a strangled groan before he crushed her to him again, kissing her as he pushed his hips up against her. Cupping her face, he whispered, "Hermione, I'm… I've never…"

She silenced him with her lips. "I don't care."

His shudder traveled the length of his body, and his voice was a husky rasp, as he said, "I want you so much…"

She closed her mouth on his lower lip and gently tugged, eliciting another groan of pleasure. "You have me," she answered. "I'm yours. _Only_ yours…"

"Oh, gods…" He gave her a fierce, possessive kiss, before he wrapped his arms around her and rolled them over. His face mesmerized her with the way he looked her over as one would a treat. His eyes blazed as he said, "_Only mine_." With a feral smile, he kissed her breathless. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him on top of her, sighing at the way she felt small and delicate in his strong arms. It was just as she'd imagined it would be in the long lonely nights they'd been apart.

"I should take you to my rooms," he crooned in a tone that made the small hairs on her arms stand up. "There should be a crackling fire and wine and a bed." He kissed her jaw. "In my dreams of you, there was always a crackling fire and wine, and you were _always_ in my bed." He skimmed his hand up along her side. "But I find myself impatient with how much time it would take to make our way through the castle and there's a certain elegance of symbolism for me here."

"How so?" she asked, although she already had an understanding.

He kissed her, stroking his nose across her cheek as he nibbled at her lips. "It's a long story," he whispered in an ironic tone. "I don't want to talk anymore. I can barely think as it is and will most likely say something incredibly stupid."

She laughed softly. "Or me. We do tend to take turns saying the wrong thing at the wrong moment." She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Just kiss me instead."

He smiled his beautiful smile and did just that. Within moments they were lost in each other again. A small, hushed cry escaped her when his hand finally cupped her breast, and he swept his tongue into her mouth, stealing her breath away. She slid her hands along his chest and down his impossibly narrow waist. The foreignness of his body excited her, and when she reached down and cupped him through his trousers, he let out a long, low groan that sent shivers through her body.

"Oh, _yesss_…" he rasped, shoving himself against her hand.

He gave her a fierce kiss then, making her ache with need, and her heart soared with every quiet groan of pleasure he made as she stroked him.

Supporting his weight on his elbow while they kissed, he slipped a hand underneath her and began fiddling with the buttons on the back of her gown. They apparently defeated him, so he turned his attention to her neckline, sliding a finger along her cleavage and trying to slowly tug it down. It didn't cooperate. Kissing her until she was nearly delirious, he pulled at the sleeve barely resting on her shoulder but it refused to budge as well. He tugged and pulled and finally broke off from their kisses to scowl down at her clothes. "What the devil is wrong with this bloody dress?"

She shifted and began pulling at it herself and then flopped back to the grass with a groan. "It's the charms. You locked my charms in place, and they're the only thing keeping me in it."

He chuckled, the sound making her belly flutter. "Is that all? I feared it was some sort of test I was failing."

She stopped him as he reached for his wand. "That could be a bit of a problem. If you cancel them, I won't have another seven hours when we're finished."

He kissed her jaw while kneading her breast, trying to push it up and out of the dress with no success. "I don't give a damn."

"I love that you don't care, but there is an entire ball full of people that might. I was supposed to make a good impression, not shock them speechless."

He brushed her beaded collar aside and started kissing her cleavage. "I don't care about them, either. We're done with the ball. I thought we were supposed to be ignoring the rest of the world, anyway. Take this damned thing off, it's time for tea..."

She giggled at his resolve. "Alright," she said, waggling her eyebrows. "You cancel your spell, and I'll cancel mine."

With a predatory smile, he shifted back until he was sitting on his heels. He pulled his wand from his sleeve again, and she shivered as she felt his magic ripple across her body. Sitting up, she reached up and popped the small, bead buttons on her collar, tossing it into the grass by her side. His eyes became heavy lidded as he watched her. Next, she slid her wand out and carefully removed some of the layered charms.

He caught on to what she was doing and rasped, "All of them." He waved a trembling hand at her chest. "I want to see _you_."

She wrinkled her nose. "That would ruin the—"

He cut her off. "_All_ of them," he repeated.

It was an order, not a request, and she found the tone almost obscenely sexy. With a sigh, she whispered, "_Finite Incantatem_."

Her carefully designed mint-green gown with black lace changed into a frumpy dusty rose with the neckline hacked off. She grimaced as the two hair combs sprang loose, unable to hold up under the weight of her hair without the assistance of the small charms tacking it in place. She reached up and plucked them out as her hair tumbled down into her face and around her shoulders. His mouth dropped open and he absently stroked himself through his trousers. She shook her hair until it was hiding her scars, and reached back and began popping the buttons on her dress awkwardly, knowing she wasn't exactly turning this into the elegant striptease she'd hoped for. He leaned forward and swept her hair away, and she jerked backwards, twisting. It was too much. She'd wanted to avoid seeing the pity again for as long as possible.

"No," he crooned, leaning forward and pulling her into his arms. "Don't hide from me."

"They're ugly," she said in a small voice.

He shrugged. "So am I."

"You're _not_—!"

"Exactly," he said. "If you can look at this face and be willfully deluded, why can't I look at your scars and see them the way I want?" He kissed her and then pulled back. "Look." He shrugged out of his robes and began attacking the snow-white linen at his neck. He made quick work of the buttons on his collar down to the top of his waistcoat, and then pulled the fabric apart, twisting his head to the side. His neck was surprisingly graceful—long, with a pronounced Adam's apple—and there, dotting his neck from collarbone to just under his ear, were the unmistakable scars from Crucio. His were still livid red, whereas hers had turned silvery with time.

_Gods, his neck_. No wonder he'd bitten through his tongue. She surged forward and pressed her lips to them, wishing she had the power to erase them completely. "I'm so sorry!" she said. "This is my fault! It wouldn't have happened if I hadn't meddled!"

His arms came around her and he hugged her tight. "Do you really think that's true? Do you really think, had you not come back in time, I would have lasted twenty years without ever getting up his nose? Hermione, he does it to _everyone_. Even Rodolphus. The only reason it hadn't happened to me before is because I was mostly beneath his notice. If you said I became part of his inner circle in your time, then there's no way I escaped without scars." He pushed her back from him and stroked his free hand down her neck until he was tracing the scars on her own chest. "Besides. Now we have something in common." He gave her a shy, self-conscious look. "Sort of. You have a lot more than me. I don't like to think about you in that much pain."

"Nor I you." She smiled and reached for the buttons on his waistcoat. "Let's not. I'd rather think about pleasure."

He chuffed out a breath and reached behind her, fumbling with her buttons as he leaned in for a kiss. All signs of inexperience faded, as he sucked and nibbled on her mouth. She was still trying to navigate the tiny buttons on his shirt when he pulled away with a triumphant growl. His eyes veiled as he slowly tugged away the fabric of her gown and finally revealed her breasts.

His lips parted in a sigh and time seemed to stand still as he brought his hand around and cupped her. "You're so soft," he whispered, kneading her flesh gently. With a darting look that seemed to ask for permission—although he didn't wait for any—he bent her back over his arm and kissed her breast, mouthing it hungrily before moving to the other. She whimpered when his lips closed over a nipple, and he pulled away, darting a look at her face. "Did I hurt you?"

She almost laughed, but she needed all of her breath to gasp out, "Gods, no. More."

Licking his lips, he reached over and grabbed up his discarded robes, spreading them out behind her with a snap. Then he gathered up her skirts and pulled her dress up over her head, tossing it to the side. When he saw her kneeling in only her thigh-high stockings and thong his eyes went wide. "Oh, _gods_, Hermione. You're so beautiful." He stroked a hand down her side to her hip and then around to caress her bottom, pulling her against his chest, so he had a view of her rear. "Oh, Christ, that's the sexiest thing I've ever seen." He turned back to her and asked, "Isn't that a bit uncomfortable?"

She giggled, and when he blushed, she laughed harder. "It's worth it just for your reaction alone."

He smirked and then started prodding her to lie down on his robes. At her urging, he straightened up and hurriedly shed his waistcoat and shirt. He was whippet thin yet pleasing to the eye, and her mouth started to water at the expanse of pale skin and hard muscle. The line of silky black hairs leading down into his trousers nearly undid her. He gave her a nervous look, and she grinned, opening her arms in welcome. With a sigh, he lowered himself down and stretched out on top of her. They both gasped at the feel of so much skin touching and quickly became lost in sensation as they kissed and licked and explored each other's bodies. She dug her nails into his back when he slid his hand inside her knickers and moaned. She reached for the placket of his trousers, and it only took a few tugs to get the buttons open and worm her fingers inside. When she wrapped her hand around him for the first time, his head snapped up and his breath exploded from his chest, only to return in a loud, indrawn hiss. His eyes were nearly crossed as he stared at her in slack-jawed bliss.

She caressed his silky flesh, and he let out a groan that sent delicious spikes of pleasure racing through her body. She began a steady rhythm as he ground his teeth together, and within moments, she had him babbling. "Oh… _nnguhh_… _oh, god_... _please_… no… yes… _stop_…"

She stilled her hand and leaned up to kiss him, and he swept his tongue into her mouth and thrust himself gently against her hand once again.

"Do you really want me to stop?" she asked, confused at the mixed messages.

"Gods, no," he groaned, "but if you keep that up, this will be over in a moment."

She stroked him again, and he shoved himself into her hand. "We can take our time later. I want you now."

He let out a low, sexy moan and kissed her, his heavy breaths hot against her cheek as he panted. "My god, Hermione… It feels like I could die from wanting you this much."

He leaned down and gave her a harsh, almost violent kiss and together they pushed and pulled and nearly fought with each other in their urgency to get his trousers down, her knickers off, and her legs around his waist. His words were no longer coherent as he pushed against her every time he felt flesh.

She took him in hand and guided him to the right spot, whispering, "Slowly now…"

He bit his lip, nodding several times as he started to push in slowly, gasping and cursing between pauses to maintain control. His brow was a furrow of concentration but every few heartbeats his face would go completely slack and he would let out a groan or a hitched squeak of pleasure. She moaned as he filled her, bucking her hips and twisting, impatient with her own orders.

When he slid in to the hilt, any attempt to guard his tongue went by the wayside. "Oh, _fuck!_ Gods, you're so… _nghughh! Shite!_" They began a slow wrestling match, with her wriggling in pleasure and him trying to hold her still, while babbling, "_Don'tmove!Don'tmove!Don't_—for fuck's sake, woman! Stop _moving._"

"I want to move!"

"You'll make me _come!_"

"That's the whole point!"

"Yes, but I'd hoped to last at least a _few_ moments before I made my _point_," he growled, pushing up on his elbows to glare down at her. "Aren't you supposed to want to get something out of this too?"

She let out a cackle that was disturbingly close to Bellatrix's. "Severus, if you think I'm not getting anything out of this, you're _deeply_ mistaken."

His gaze turned to liquid and he whispered, "Do I feel good inside you?"

She slid her hands down his back and pulled his hips tighter against her. "You feel _so_ good," she said in with a breathy moan. "It would feel better if you _moved_."

She pushed at his hips and then pulled, and his eyes fluttered shut. He sank his teeth into his lip and pulled out again, sliding back in with a groan. At her urging he picked up the pace and his mouth dropped open and went slack. "Oh… oh… gods… _oh…_"

She was mesmerized by the expressions on his face as he gave in. He clenched his teeth and the cords on his neck stood out as he threw his head back in abandon. She didn't even know when she'd closed her eyes, reveling in the feeling of him inside her, until he started cursing again and she opened them. His face was stretched back in a rictus of pleasure as he began chanting, "_Yes! Yes! Fuck, yes!_" His hips jerked out of rhythm and he let out a long, low moan. "Oh, fuck, Hermione… I can't…" His eyes flew open, and he rasped, "_I'm—_" and the rest was lost in an inarticulate gurgle as she felt him pulsing deep within. His face was a glorious display of ecstasy as he shuddered above her with a long, low moan of triumphant surrender.

He collapsed down on top of her, crushing her to the soft grass. She could feel his heart banging against her breast, and his gasps tickled her ear where his face was buried in her hair.

He was still for so long that she was about to prod him to see if he was even awake, when she heard the barely whispered, "I love you."

:

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:

Tol' ya.


	12. Aftermath

**AN:** To everyone interested in how many chapters this will be, the answer is: I have no idea. Editing makes it both shrink and expand at the same time. I'm guessing 20, but don't hold me to that. *hugs*

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'_I love you.'_

Those words were magical for her, and yet, they'd been spoken so softly, she wondered if he hadn't meant for her to hear them. After all, he'd just had sex for the first time… Ron had always blurted out things he hadn't intended or didn't mean when the moment was upon him. Her brain spun into overdrive as she flailed to figure out how to react.

When he lifted himself up, looking dazed and starry-eyed, she just grinned at him until her face hurt, hoping he would give her a clue.

He didn't. Instead, he smothered her in kisses and then rolled off. She worried at the issue like a flap of skin on the roof of her mouth. Surely he would have started to get upset if he'd said it and she hadn't, right? 'I love you' was a big step, after all, and this was Severus Snape. So perhaps he hadn't meant to say it…

"Did I hurt you?" he asked in a timid voice, stroking his long fingers along the curve of her breast.

"No," she replied with grin. "Just the opposite."

His smile at that transformed his entire face. "You're amazing," he whispered. "I want to stay here forever with you."

She reached up and stroked his face, curving her hand around his jaw as she tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. "I wish we could. I wish this night would never end. I love… being here with you." Somewhere in a corner of her brain, she rolled her eyes at herself and wondered when she'd become such a coward.

He caught her fingers and kissed them. "It doesn't have to end," he said shyly. "I could sneak you to my rooms, and you could stay the night." He scrunched up his face. "Well, most of the night. I'd have to sneak you back out before dawn."

Her heart gave an almost painful thump in her chest as she said, "I'd really like that."

He grinned at her and kissed her again before he scrambled awkwardly to his feet, reaching down to pull her up while dragging at his trousers.

He helped her gather her things and dress as best she could, she didn't have the energy or focus to re-charm her dress or her hair.

"Here," he said, shaking his own robes out with a snap. "So you don't catch a chill." He wrapped them around her and quickly did up the clasp. The sleeves fell several inches past her fingertips, and she held them up and flapped them. He smiled his wonderful smile, and kissed her before taking her hand and leading her out of the maze. She wouldn't let him blast their way out and so they got completely lost.

By the time they found their way back to the door, laughing so hard that neither could catch their breath, she knew she was very much in love with this amazing man. She mentally flogged herself for not just jerking him to a halt and blurting out that fact. And yet… why had he said it so quietly?

As he Disillusioned her—making a production of gathering his dignity together to walk out into the hallway in just his wrinkled waistcoat and shirtsleeves—she was panicked at the thought that he might not have actually meant it. He held his arm out, and when she slipped her hand around his elbow, he clamped his arm against his side, trapping it. She grew even more flustered and unsure of herself as they made their way down the stairs and through the crowd gathering to collect their cloaks.

She was a Gryffindor, for heaven's sake, why was she afraid of saying three little words?

The truth was, she already knew the answer. The last time she'd said them, it had ruined everything. Saying those words had seemed to seal something for Ron, and that had been the exact moment he stopped trying to please her. Not that he'd been all that bad, but it seemed to her a case of, "Right, that's done," and he'd shifted his focus to getting on with life. Fairly soon after that, he'd started to get fed up with her inability to do the same thing.

It was stupid to assume Severus would react the same way. In fact, there was a good chance that no one on the planet needed to hear those words more, but when she tried to say them, they caught in her throat and refused to budge. She hurried along at his side in an increasing panic as he skulked along by the wall to keep her from getting bumped.

"Severus!"

He stopped so suddenly that she nearly pitched onto her face. He kept her up with only the muscles in his one arm, his face never betraying her presence. He stiffened as Lily came over, with James looking sour and angry behind her. Hermione caressed Severus' arm reassuringly.

"There you are! I see you've finished dancing," she said, taking in the sight of him half-dressed and sweaty. His untied cravat was wrapped loosely around his neck, and his hands were jammed into his trouser pockets. Hermione couldn't really gauge the other woman's expression, but nearly growled territorially anyway.

"I didn't want to leave without offering my apologies. I'm terribly sorry that my words upset you. That wasn't my intent. Where's your friend? Did she leave early?"

"She's not far," he said with haughty disdain.

Hermione brought a hand to her mouth to stifle the giggle that wanted to escape, but James' alertness did the job for her. He seemed to know exactly what Severus meant and his eyes began to dart about them. For an instant, she was sure they'd locked eyes but his gaze continued down Severus's side and then lingered on his arm. Hermione looked down to see that he'd noticed where her hand was crushing Severus's sleeve. So. Perhaps Harry did have something in common with his father aside from looks. And here, she'd been developing a theory that Harry had been a changeling.

"I see," said Lily. "Well, if she's not far, perhaps I will try and find her before I leave. I'd like to invite her over for tea sometime. Any friend of yours should be a friend of mine, yes? Besides. I owe her an apology as well. I've managed to make myself look like a complete arse tonight."

James took his wife's arm. "I'm sure you could just send her an owl, dear," he said. "We should be getting home to the baby." He looked at Severus, the antipathy between them was palpable, and yet he offered a tight smile and said, "Good evening, Snape. Enjoy the rest of your night."

"Potter," Severus replied with a slight inclination of his head.

He turned to go, not even acknowledging Lily's beseeching look, but another voice called out and stopped him. "Snape, you _naughty_ boy!"

Lily blanched and let her husband lead her off toward the line for their cloaks as Bellatrix Lestrange approached Severus. She was hanging on her husband's arm, obviously inebriated, and Rabastan seemed to be faring the same as he swayed along behind them. "I was hoping to see you before I left," she said. "I was wondering if you and your Miss Granger had plans this weekend. We're having a bit of a get-together on Saturday."

"None that I can recall," he replied.

"Good. Expect an owl tomorrow, then, and you might want to pack a bag. I think we might just open up the entire house. It should be great fun!"

"I'll look forward to it, then."

"Excellent." She smiled and patted his arm, and as the men all exchanged their goodnights, she looked directly at Hermione and called out. "Good night, poppet!"

Hermione swallowed and replied, "Good night, Mrs. Lestrange." Rabastan's eyes went wide in surprise and then he squinted and peered in her direction. His eyes never landed on her.

"Oh, do call me Bella, dear. I have a feeling we'll be _such_ good friends."

With that, she swept away, leading the Lestrange brothers off. Hermione followed them with her eyes as Severus pulled her towards the stairs leading to the dungeons. She caught Lily's surprised expression as well, and chuckled darkly.

Once they were alone in the dungeons, Severus cast a Muffliato and murmured, "You and Bella certainly seem to be getting on well."

"So it seems. Despite the fact that I don't want to get on with her at all. How did she know I was right next to you?"

"She didn't. She assumed, and you confirmed. You need to be more careful that that. Gryffindors are easy prey for Slytherins when it comes to intrigue. You'll have to be on your toes this weekend. She's been all sweetness and light around you so far, but you shouldn't let it fool you. She's a bad bit of business. You'll need to watch your step. "

Hermione shuddered. "The very idea of spending Christmas and Boxing Day with her makes me sick."

"I imagine so. I remember your memories."

"In my time, she spent several years in Azkaban before she escaped and came out utterly insane."

"She's not the full ticket now."

"Am I supposed to get them presents?"

He snorted and flashed her a smile, shaking his head. "No. Death Eaters are above peace on earth and good will towards men. This will be a pathetic attempt to pretend they don't miss it."

He stopped before a painting of an empty chair sitting before a bench full of steaming cauldrons.

"Whose portrait is this?" Hermione asked as he stroked a long-fingered hand down the frame.

"No one's anymore. It used to belong to Cavilus Blattwort, a Potions master in the fifteenth century, but I banished him to a portrait in the trophy gallery. I found him nosey and opinionated. No one is allowed in it now."

The frame swung open, and he led her inside.

She felt his magic trickle down her body as he cancelled the Disillusionment charm but hardly paid it any mind as she took in his rooms. There was a small desk and chair against one wall, along with a sizable bookshelf that was bursting with books, scrolls, and folios. A single chair, plush and inviting, with an ottoman before it and a small table to the side, dominated the area before the fireplace. Along the opposite wall was a full-sized bed with a surprisingly mundane beige counterpane and two flattened pillows.

She heard a clink and a gurgle and turned just as Severus held out a glass of wine. His face was almost incandescent with something akin to triumph as she took it from him. As she drank, he pulled out his wand and with a spell sent the fire in the grate to leaping and crackling before turning to her with a smoldering look that turned her mouth dry, despite the sweetness of the wine.

"Don't worry about this weekend," he said as he took her hand and led her over to his bed. "I'll keep you safe." She blinked slowly as he popped open the clasp on the robes she wore. "No one will touch you." He plucked the glass away from her again and set it on the table next to the bed, along with his own. "No one but me," he said in a husky voice. He slid his hands inside the collar of his robes and slowly pushed them off her shoulders.

The sound of her swallowing seemed extraordinarily loud in her ears as he leaned in to claim her mouth in a possessive kiss. Placing one knee on his bed, he gently bent her down onto the mattress.

_Oh, heavens,_ she thought. _If this is how he is after his first time, I might not survive when he grows more confident._

It was her last coherent thought for a rather long period of time.

:

Hermione was disturbed by the hair tickling her face. Even in her sleep, she knew it wasn't hers. She opened her eyes and turned to see a guilty-looking Severus staring down at her, belatedly tucking his hair behind his ear. She made a sleepy protest. "What time is it?"

"Three thirty-seven." His voice was rough and raspy and did wonderful things to the butterflies in her belly.

She gave him a sleepy giggle and curled into his arms as he shifted back against his headboard. He gathered her up against him, stroking her back soothingly.

"I didn't mean to wake you. I just wanted to watch you sleep and you'd rolled the other way."

"Can't you sleep?"

He gave her a look of profound disbelief. "I've a naked woman in my bed. How the hell am I supposed to get any sleep?"

And just like that, the boyish Severus was back. The way he'd been when she first came to his bed had been nearly overwhelming. He'd been demanding and almost hyper focused as he'd explored her body and her responses in a way that had left her feeling deliciously powerless. She hadn't fallen asleep so much as passed out.

She giggled and kissed his long neck, resting her head against his shoulder. Wrapping her arms around his chest, she murmured, "I could get very used to this."

"Do."

He hugged her closer, twining his legs around hers, and she sighed contentedly. He wasn't the most comfortable pillow, but he was certainly the warmest.

She was just drifting off again when his voice rumbled deep in his chest. "Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you—? I didn't—" He sighed and nudged her until she rose up to look in his face. She couldn't read it beyond a small wrinkle of worry between his brows. "What if I've just got you pregnant? I didn't even think of it. I mean, I've been careless twice now..."

She smiled reassuringly and tried to stroke the wrinkle away with a fingertip. "I drank a month's dosage of birth-control earlier this evening." She waggled her eyebrows. "I had high hopes for how this night would end. That stuff tastes like kennel scrapings, by the way, so I demand a month's worth of sex for my pains."

He smirked, but she caught the way he grimaced slightly before he turned and reached for his discarded glass of wine. "What was that? That look?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me."

"It was nothing. You're half asleep. We should rest."

"Severus… you're not _disappointed_ are you?"

"What? No! Disappointed that I didn't knock you up on our first night together? Don't be daft." He quaffed the rest of his glass and set it back on his bedside table.

She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head to the side. "What would you have done had I said I'd forgotten as well?"

He scowled and shifted down so his head was on the pillow. "It's a moot point, isn't it?"

"Tell me anyway."

He huffed and closed his eyes as if exhausted all of an instant. "Go to sleep."

She frowned and rolled over, punching at the pillow to fluff it into a shape she approved of.

His arm came around and pulled her back against him, and he hugged her. When his voice came, it was soft and close. "I'd have asked you to marry me."

His answer set her heart to a tripping beat and she sighed, closing her eyes and taking several breaths for courage. She twisted in his arms and found him looking at her with nervous eyes. "Did you mean it then?"

"That I'd marry you if I'd got you up the duff? Of course. I'd never leave a girl hanging like that."

"That's nice to know, but that's not what I'm talking about." She scrunched up her face and pushed the words past her cowardice. "I meant when you said you loved me. In the garden earlier. Did you mean it?"

His eyes went wide and his body turned to stone next to her. She did her best to hide her crushing disappointment.

"It's alright if you didn't. Guys blurt out things in the heat of the moment. I get it. You probably didn't even know you'd said it. I mean, it was your first time after all." Finally deciding to shut up, she gave him a lopsided smile and kissed the tip of his nose. She snuggled closer and closed her eyes, feeling her heart turn to lead.

"What if I did?" he rasped.

She sagged with relief and took a shuddering breath before she whispered, "Then I'd feel better for knowing I wasn't the only one who felt that way."

His reaction was instantaneous. He surged up and grabbed her, flipping her onto her back as he stared down into her face with a frightening intensity. "_Do you?_ Don't toy with me about something like this, I'll know if you're lying!"

She peered at him, confused by his reaction. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it."

He frowned and drew back. "You haven't exactly said it, have you?"

"You're not exactly making it easy, are you?"

His pained expression confused her even more. "Hermione, I _need_ to hear it."

Feeling unsure of herself, she whispered, "I love you."

His eyes fluttered closed, and he dropped his head down until it was resting against hers.

She brought her arms up around his shoulders and held him close. "I should have told you as soon as you said it," she added. "Or even been the first. I was just afraid you didn't mean it because you were so quiet, and it made me insecure."

He kissed her forehead, her hair, her temple. "I did. I did mean it, although I didn't know I'd said it out loud. I _do _love you, Hermione, and that's scared the hell out of me for weeks now."

His voice grew soft and child-like. "No one's ever loved _me_ before. Well, aside from my mam, of course."

He shook his head, and his beautiful smile spread across his face. "They're wrong. I _can_ have you. I've _got_ you, and you're mine. You're stuck with me, now."

He said this last with such eagerness that she found herself giggling.

"I'm glad I'm stuck with you, Severus. Just… please don't be more than I can handle. These mood swings of yours can be a bit overwhelming."

He shook his head slower this time, pushing back and looking into her eyes. "I won't. I'll be exactly what you want. _Whatever_ you want."

She snorted. "Right now, I want you to be the guy that sleeps with me. I'm exhausted and now I have a slight headache from all the champagne."

"Of course! I'm sorry. Yes, of course." He pulled the blanket over her shoulder and dropped a kiss onto her cheek. "Let me get you a potion." Springing out of bed, he streaked into the bathroom, giving her a rather nice view of his arse.

He was back in a moment and after handing her the vial, proceeded to hover over her until the potion started to work. When it did, he climbed back in bed and slid up behind her, gently wrapping his arms around her. "Is this alright?" he asked.

"It's perfect," she replied.

He doused the last of the candles, leaving them in the glow of the fire, and then began pressing little kisses along her shoulder and up her neck. When he reached her ear, he whispered. "I really do love you."

She reached back and cupped his jaw, pressing it against her neck. "I really do love you too, Severus."

He caressed her breast absently with his hand as he murmured, "You won't get tired of my saying that, will you?"

She felt like she wanted to burst from happiness as she snuggled deeper into his embrace. "Never," she whispered.

"Good," he sighed, and she could feel the tension leave his body as he laid his head down to sleep. "That's good."

:

They completely overslept the next morning.

:

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:


	13. Designing Fate

**AN:** So sorry for missing a day. The holiday weekend was a busy one, and finally caught up to me. To make up for it, you can have another lemon. Do enjoy.

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After a mad scramble out of the bed at half-past seven, and a hundred-yard dash through the castle in pair of Severus' trousers and a dress shirt that had been shrunk to fit, Hermione had kept moving. There was a lot to do before the weekend, and precious little time to do it. She'd run home, grabbed a quick shower, and then was right back out the door. By noon, her panicked energy had faded, taking its illusion that she had the situation under control with it.

She was a wreck. So much so that when there was a knock on her door she barked, "Who is it?" rather than use common sense and grab her wand.

"Who the bloody hell else would it be?" came the reply.

"Oh!" She tied the sash of her dressing gown and bobbed and weaved her way over to un-ward the door and snatch it open. "Severus!"

He stood on her doorstep, looking nervous and slightly embarrassed to be standing there clutching a handful of white roses. "Did you miss me?" he blurted before turning bright pink.

"I absolutely missed you!" She went up on her toes and kissed him, and he kissed her back with enthusiasm as he pushed her inside and closed the door behind him.

They broke the kiss, and he held up the flowers. "These are for you. I know red is more common in these situations, but I suddenly find myself extremely fond of white."

"I like white better too," she said as she took them with a grin.

He only then seemed to notice what she was wearing. "Why aren't you dressed? It's half-past twelve. Are you not feeling—?" He stopped and stared around the room. "What's all this?"

Her flat was littered with fashion magazines and books about old movie stars. They were stacked all over the table and her bed. The clothesline she'd strung across the room made it nearly unnavigable, especially with the five, identical, plain-brown robes hanging from it.

"What are you up to?" he asked, looking around the room and then tilting his head at her as if silently questioning her sanity.

She snorted as she exchanged the cutlery in the mug on her table with the roses and added some water. "Panic. Panic is what I'm up to. Hysteria is only another notch higher, and I'm closing in fast."

"What's the problem?"

"_Narcissa's_ the problem. She thinks I have a good eye for fashion!"

"You do."

"No, I don't!" She threw up her hands in despair and stormed across her flat.

"The dress you wore to the ball the other night was gorgeous."

"I stole the design from one of my mother's _dolls._"

"So steal another one."

"Oh, yes, and dressing like a geisha will go over really well. Or should I be the little French school girl? What about the Victorian baby? Oh! I know! The little Dutch girl with her wooden shoes!"

She shoved a stack of magazines off the bed and flumped down on it.

"I don't give a fiddler's fart about fashion. I've never cared about that sort of thing _at all!_ The only person I know who could help me is about seven months old. What am I going to do? Narcissa wants to see my designs, and I don't have any!"

"I don't know much," he gestured to the identical brown robes, "but I think you might be barking up the wrong tree."

She huffed and rolled her eyes. "I haven't altered them yet. I just got them this morning from down stairs. They were discounted because they were so ugly. I don't have money to be wasting on clothes. I bought fifteen thousand dollars' worth of a computer company this week."

"I can buy you a dress." He looked defensive as he said it.

"That's very sweet of you, but you're missing the point. I don't need _a dress_. I need spectacular _clothes_, and both of us together couldn't afford them at the moment. I have to create silk from these sows' ears."

He leaned over the table and flipped a magazine closed, looking at the cover. "And these are supposed to help?"

"I had hoped they might. I swiped them from dentists' offices all over Scotland. I figured Narcissa wouldn't know anything about Muggle fashion, and I could steal an idea or two. I thought I could get some tips from old movie stars as well. My Gran was a huge fan of June Duprez." She grabbed a book off her pillow and flipped through to the back. "That's her there," she said, passing it between the robes. "I thought the padded shoulders could work. They'll be all the rage in a year or two anyway."

"Well, if my opinion matters, I think that looks perfect."

"But what color should I chose? The bloody pictures are all in black and white, aren't they?"

"Hermione, I think you've moved on to hysterical. Pick any color. Pick that pink color that your other dress was originally. That looked rather nice on you."

"It_ did?_"

Severus' face morphed into one of alarm. "Didn't it?"

"You just said it did."

"Well, _I_ thought so. But then I thought you looked rather lovely wearing only my sheets. In fact, I thought you looked pretty shaggable lying in mud with your arse in the air. I'm probably not a good judge."

He pushed a gown aside and ducked his head under the line. Scooping up a handful of magazines, he seated himself on the bed next to her. Flipping open the first one, he licked a finger and started turning pages. She watched with her lip in her teeth as his eyes scanned the pictures as if they were essays to be graded. After a few moments, he started to flip faster.

"Are they selling clothes or tits?" he asked.

"One does wonder," she replied.

"Here. This one would work for you. It looks like something Cissy would wear."

He handed it to her and opened another magazine. She was looking at the tailored Yves St. Laurent suit with a pencil skirt that he'd picked, when he blurted, "What the hell is that?" pointing to a sack dress in beige crepe. "She looks like she's going to a fancy dress party dressed as a scrotum."

Hermione burst into a laugh, and he flashed a sexy smirk at her before waving his magazine at the robes. "Get to work. You have two already, and we have other things to discuss besides your wardrobe."

She pulled out her wand and started in on the first one on the line. "Not that I'm not delighted, but what _are _you doing here anyway?"

"I just saw the last of the little blighters off to the train and came over. Dumbledore wanted me to get your approval on some things. Did you get Saturday and Sunday off of work?"

"Yes."

"Good. Here, this one's good as well." He tore the page out and handed it over.

"That would look awful on me. Armani is for tall stick figures."

"That will look fantastic on you. It's the model that makes it look like shite."

"Severus…"

"Trust me."

She sighed and shook her head. They worked mostly in silence after that as he gave up on the magazines and started flipping through the books. In the end, she had two for daywear and three gowns for evening.

"Well," she said, looking over the altered robes, the pewter-colored Armani was still shrieking at her, trying to warn her away from impending fashion suicide. "It's not as if I needed to feel confident to get through this weekend," she finished flippantly.

"Try them on," he said.

By that point, he was stretched out on the bed with one arm behind his head and his long legs crossed at his booted ankles. He looked comfortable, confident, and smug. Seeing him like that, she was jolted with awareness that this wasn't just her new boyfriend, but _Severus Snape_, Hogwarts' Potions master, and the legendary bat of the dungeons. The idea that _he_ was in her bed struck her anew, and she found herself getting rather aroused. She knew he could tell because his mouth slowly slid up into a sexy smirk, and his eyes went half-lidded.

"Or you could take that off…"

She took a step closer to the bed, but then bit her lip. "What about Dumbledore's clock?"

"Too late. I fear whatever flag he has for this situation has already been tripped. No sense wasting the humiliation." He lifted a foot and toed off one of his boots, sending it to the floor with a loud clunk.

She giggled. "And now we've tipped off the customers downstairs."

The other followed, just as loud. "I find I'm not in the mood to hide the fact that you're mine. Anyone with a brain will be able to figure out what I'd be inclined to get up to with you. Come here."

He raised an eyebrow when she shivered at his tone, and she realized he had far too much power over her. She licked her lip and bit it as she pulled apart the belt to her dressing gown with slow, deliberate movements.

Turnabout was delicious. Whatever control he'd held over her the moment before rebounded, and it was he who came to her. He pushed off the bed and stood before her, lifting his hands and placing them on her shoulders. "Let me," he said in a husky voice. The fabric bunched in his hands as he dragged it off her shoulders and down her arms, grazing her skin with his thumbs along the way. His breathing hitched as her breasts were revealed, and he leaned down and kissed her shoulder, running his lips along her neck to her jaw before shifting to her mouth.

Brushing his open mouth against hers teasingly, he whispered, "I can think of nothing but you, Hermione." He kissed her, a slow, decadent declaration of intent, and then pulled away only far enough to say, "I walk around half-mad with desire. Even in the middle of fifth-year potions, I find myself staring into space, remembering how sinfully good you feel, how wet and hot and tight you are, and how delicious you smell."

Her knees went to jelly, and she clung to him as his hand closed around her breast. He wrapped his other arm around the small of her back in a gentle but strong embrace.

"You're in my mind every moment of the day from when I wake up, forced to wank before I can step outside my rooms, to when I'm done for the day and can retire to my bed. There, you torment me. I can still smell your perfume on the pillow you used." He touched his lips to her jaw. "It excites me…"

She moaned, an unnatural sound that seemed to come from her toes.

"Do you know what the best moment is?"

She shook her head, eager to know the answer.

His lips caressed her cheek before she felt his hot breath on her ear. "When I drift off to sleep, knowing you love me."

"_Oh…_" She pulled him against her, twisting her head to find his mouth. Their kiss was explosive as their tongues sought each other, desperate to reconnect on a primal level. His hands were everywhere on her as she tore at his cravat and attacked the four buttons on his robes.

"Skin…" she moaned into his mouth. "I need to feel your skin again."

He rumbled with pleasure and helped her, snatching off his robes and shirt up over his head and flinging them to the floor where they landed with a muffled thump.

"Oh," she cried again when she saw his bared chest.

He pulled her to him slowly, his dark eyes smoldering. The sound of their breathing revealed how much pleasure was to be had in the touch of skin against skin.

Their kisses became frantic as she stroked him through his trousers. He groaned and pulled away. "Not yet," he said, turning her around. She found herself facing her mirrored bathroom door and his hands came around her and began toying with her breasts. One of his long-fingered hands skimmed down her belly and then tugged at her knickers pulling them down only to her thighs. He nudged her legs apart and stroked her, kissing her temple. "Tell me what feels good," he whispered, his breath scorching her face.

She reached down, taking his fingers and guiding him, showing him where to touch and how to stroke her. She dropped her head back against him and bit her lip as he took over, swirling and swirling until she began to shake.

"You like that, don't you? You like when I touch you… make you quiver and shake for me."

"_Yes_…" She answered in a near whimper.

"…make you wet…"

"Oh, _yes_…"

"Spread your legs for me. Wider. That's it. Oh, gods, you look so fucking sexy with your little knickers pulled down like a dirty girl."

"Oh, _shit_…" she keened as his words pushed her over the edge. Moaning long and loud, she quivered as his fingers danced between her legs. Her climax tore through her, and when she began to wail, he plunged his fingers deep inside of her. She howled.

"Fuck _yes… So beautiful._" His words were a harsh rasp, and he clung to her, bucking gently against her arse as she came on his hand. When the last wave left her lightheaded and dazed, he bent her forward. She had to plant her hands on the mirror to keep from falling as he fumbled with his trousers. She was only just beginning to think clearly when he shoved himself inside, sliding all the way on the second stroke. He didn't pause, and she had to center her balance as he took her with mindless abandon. She'd thought he wouldn't last long, he'd been so keyed up, but he drove on and on like a man possessed. She watched his face in the mirror as her excitement built anew. His head was thrown back and his teeth were gnashing together. When his head lolled to the side, he opened his eyes and looked at her with absolute adoration before his gaze fell on her swaying breasts.

"You feel so fucking _good_," he hissed.

One hand left her hips and stroked the skin of her back, a curiously gentle touch compared to the rhythm he kept. She closed her eyes and reached down between her legs, stroking herself and heard him gurgle encouragement. She was close, so damned close, when he let out a strangled cry and slammed into her one last time. Her fingers danced, desperate for another release, and he held her hard against him with shaking hands as he groaned, "That's it... Oh, _yes_…"

She moaned, a whimper this time, as her body leapt for the edge, and she surrendered to another climax. He cried out as her muscles quivered around him and then slumped across her back, trying to hold her up and fall on her at the same time.

It didn't work.

With a whoop, the arm she'd been using to hold them up gave out and they collapsed in a heap. He tried to catch her as they fell, but that simply defied physics.

"Are you alright?" he asked, hauling her against him to check for bruises. "Are you hurt?"

She started giggling and dropped her head back on his shoulder in laughter. "Gods! That was so amazing!" she cried, craning her head to look at him.

His lips twitched into a smile, and he bent over her to kiss her. "Does it keep getting better at this rate?" he asked. "Because if it does, I'm not sure I'll survive the next time."

She let out another peal of laughter. "With you? I have no idea. I know it got better with practice before, but I think we passed my previous benchmark our first time out. I'd never had sex outside of a bed before."

He smirked and looked ridiculously superior. Ridiculous, because he was sprawled on her floor with his trousers and pants around his ankles. "A bed sounds a good bit more elegant at the moment. Although I have to say that was rather spectacular. Too bad we didn't stick the landing, so-to-speak."

"We'll have to keep working at it until we do. How did you get so good at the rest of it though? I'm rather curious about that point."

He snorted. "You can thank my dad for his pornography collection. I think I was twelve when I found it, and I'm a rather thorough researcher. It's all just a matter of practical application after an in-depth study of theory."

She let out a peel of laughter, and he chuckled and lightly slapped her rump to get her off of him.

"Does a nap seem in order to you?" he asked in a lazy drawl. "I think a cuddle and kip would make this morning perfect all around."

Turning, she gave him a kiss and said, "Absolutely."

She rose up on her knees and pulled up her knickers, watching him as he scrambled up and set himself to rights. He helped her up and led her to the bed, snatching down the covers. When they'd tucked themselves in, he wrapped himself around her and kissed the top of her head, murmuring, "I love you."

"Thank god. I'm so glad you love me. I love you too. More than anything in the world. I'm so happy," she said, wondering if she'd ever said those words aloud before.

A deep rumble of pleasure was his reply, and she found herself drifting off to the sound of his heartbeat.

:

Hermione woke a little over an hour later and rolled over with care to find Severus still asleep and utterly boneless in her tiny bed. She burrowed in next to him for warmth. The heating charm had worn off and her flat was rapidly cooling. It was a good thing they were both slim, or they wouldn't have fit. Lifting her head, she studied him as his eyes flickered under their lids. His perfect cupid's bow mouth was curled up even more at the corners, and she sighed. It was odd how mismatched his features were. He had a strong jaw, a beautiful mouth, an elegant nose and graceful eyebrows, and yet when you put them all together they didn't quite fit. The face was too narrow, the eyes were too small, the nose was much too big, his mouth—well, the mouth was perfect. Especially when relaxed this way. His teeth needed work, but this was eighties Britain. Whose didn't? If she hadn't been raised by dentists, she probably wouldn't have paid any attention.

Was he handsome? No. Was he adorable? Without a doubt. The sum of the parts were greater than the whole, for sure. Severus Snape defied any quick judgments one could make about him. Was he bitter? Yep. With reason. But he was also generous and kind. Was he shallow? Yes to that as well, but that hid a depth that she had yet to plumb. Was he aloof? He could be intensely so, but once you got to know him, it was obviously a preemptive strike against being judged. Was he intelligent? Almost frighteningly so, but with that came an endearing naiveté that had surprised and delighted her.

He was nearly impossible to define.

The other night had been such a symphony of extremes that she'd been caught dancing a half step behind his mercurial mood changes. Today it was a whole other story. He'd been calm and confident, clever and supportive, and most important, tolerant of her near hysteria. Ron had always managed to make her feel foolish when her nerves got the best of her. Severus had simply sat down and tried to help. In fact, trying to help seemed to be something he did without much thought. Like the night they'd first met. He hadn't even offered, he'd just begun picking up her things and cleaning the mud off.

She smirked remembering their first encounter. He'd been hard to define even then, helpful and annoying, screamingly insecure and yet comfortable chatting with a complete stranger. He seemed so different now and it had only been six months.

He was certainly more secure.

She shook her head, closing her eyes and reliving the way he'd made love to her nearly with words alone. One doesn't learn _that_ from reading naughty magazines. His rapidly increasing sexual confidence was telling. This was a man that might not seize what he wanted from life, but once life offered it to him, he grabbed it with both fists in that heedless way a child will take an offered sweet as their due.

He seemed to be a sensual creature by nature, a striking revelation that flew in the face of her understanding of her former teacher. The Snape who had died in the Shrieking Shack had seemed inhibited right down to the last button. This younger Snape hadn't yet developed his passion for buttons, and so it stood to reason that whatever had cauterized his mind from his nature hadn't happened yet. That was telling also. The older Snape's grief over Lily's death was a tragic but understandable obsession given the dearth of affection in his life. Harness that to the guilt he'd carried due to his culpability, and you had the ingredients for a bitter, stoic life devoted to nothing but retribution. The inhibited man seemed grossly out of character now that she had a better understanding of his nature. She feared something else had happened.

She frowned with suspicion. Snape had turned to Dumbledore well before Lily's death. That meant there was a good chance that Lily would have known he'd switched sides, just as she'd been quick to find out in this time. Could she have toyed with him in that other reality? Easily. She was the same person in Hermione's timeline as she was in this altered one. She narrowed her eyes, imagining all sorts of possible scenarios and caught herself getting furious. She rolled her eyes. There was no use getting herself worked up over something as foolish as petty speculation. Whatever else had happened to him in that other life, it wasn't going to happen now. She'd already seen to that. Lily was still alive, and Severus had already begun to unravel that complicated emotional tangle. He didn't need Hermione to be competitive and territorial, he just needed to be loved.

She was still lost in her reverie when her stomach let out a spectacular growl. She slapped a hand to her belly, but it was too late. His eyes popped open, and he scowled at her.

"When the hell was the last time you ate?" he asked in a sleep-roughened voice.

She wrinkled her nose. "Last night at the ball. I had a lot of things to do today. I did have a pot of tea this morning," she added as a defensive aside.

He snorted and levered himself up, pausing to give her a sloppy kiss on the way. "What time is it?" he asked.

"Almost three."

"Definitely time to feed you then." He threw off the quilts and then snatched them back up. "Christ, it's got cold in here!"

"Heating charm wore off. The radiator looks to be a few thousand years old. I didn't want to climb over you and look for my wand. You'll have to teach me how to do that silent Accio you do."

He smirked and held out his hand. "Like this." His wand flew up out of his robes and slapped into his hand.

"Bastard," she muttered as he zapped the radiator.

When it was safe to come out from under the blankets, they set about getting themselves ready to go out to eat. She stepped out of the bathroom and reached for her cloak, looking around to find he'd taken down her impromptu clothesline and tidied up her magazines and books. "Aren't you handy to have around," she said with a smile.

"It's all part of my clever plan to make you think I'm indispensible."

"It's working. Can you cook?"

"All the bacon butties you could ever want."

She laughed. "It's a start."

"Here. Take a look at these, will you?"

She stopped to watch him take some items out of the pocket of his robes and place them on the table. When she realized what they were, her skin went cold even as her smile exploded across her face. "You found them! That's wonderful!" She took two steps closer then stopped. "No. That's not them." She reached for the diary first, running her fingertips along it without actually touching. Then she did the same to the golden cup, with its two finely wrought handles. "They're very good fakes," she said, picking up the cup and turning it in her hands. "You almost had me fooled."

"Filius made them," he said. "What tipped you off?"

She shrugged. "I can't feel them. The real ones are dark. Evil. They call to you and bring out your worst traits. Pray on your fears. You were there when the ring was destroyed, you know."

He shook his head. "I didn't feel anything. I couldn't tell anything was odd about it until it was broken. Then I could _see_ the evil. The others said they'd felt something when they got close, though."

She tilted her head to the side. "Why didn't you feel it? Do you know?"

He lifted his left arm and tugged his sleeve up, displaying his Dark Mark. "Because I've been living this close to evil on a daily basis. That's why Dumbledore wanted you to go with me to look for them. I won't be able to tell a fake from the real thing."

"I would have thought the cup would have been in Bellatrix's vault."

Severus shook his head. "Dumbledore pulled strings and went to look himself. It wasn't there. She must not have moved it yet."

"What if he hasn't given it to her yet?"

He gave her a long look. "Then I'll have to go to the Dark Lord's home and search," he said. "That will set our time table back significantly, since I don't yet rank high enough to go without being summoned. There's no telling when I'd be able to."

"Then we'll just hope it's there this weekend, won't we?"

"Hope isn't a strong enough sentiment," he said as he picked up the diary and shoved it in an inner pocket. "Anyway, if we do find the cup this weekend, we'll swap it with this one. A Death Eater won't be able to tell the difference. Then I'll take it to Moody at the Ministry as fast as I can. I don't want you to be there when they destroy them. It's highly unpleasant."

"I know," she whispered. She flattened her mouth and gave him a level stare. "I spent months with the locket around my neck, eating, breathing, and sleeping with it whispering to me, telling me I wasn't good enough. Wasn't loved. Wasn't wanted by anyone." She brandished the cup in front of her. "This one? I drove a basilisk fang through the real one once already." She shuddered and placed the cup back down on the table. "I think that's why I didn't want to do this again... why I declined the Headmaster's offer to join the Order last summer. These things leave a residue on the soul that's hard to shake."

His voice was quiet as he said, "You told Dumbledore you didn't want to help?"

She took his words as censure and grew defensive. "You have to understand! I was _twelve_ the first time I ran up against your Dark Lord! Harry—_my_ Harry—had been targeted by him again. He was in the school, riding around on the back of Quirrell's head! I was thirteen when I was petrified by that basilisk you dismembered last summer. _Thirteen!_ I missed _weeks_ of classes! When I was fourteen Harry, Ron, and I were running away from dementors, chasing Death Eaters disguised as rats, and nearly getting mauled by werewolves. Two years ago, we'd all dropped out of school and were living in a tent, hunting down these bloody things with packs of Death Eaters and Snatchers hunting for us. That's when I ended up being tortured by Bellatrix on the carpet of Malfoy manor. By the time it was all over, the school had been destroyed and too many people that I cared about had been maimed or killed. I was _done._ When Dumbledore asked me to help last summer, I knew what was at stake, but I just… I couldn't do it again. I'm sorry."

He came around the table and pulled her into his arms. "You don't have to apologize. I wasn't faulting you. I just…" He sighed and hugged her tight. "He used me to draw you back in, didn't he?"

She closed her eyes and hugged him back, clinging to his warmth as tears of relief trickled down her nose. "I don't care. I could have said no, but I wanted to help this time. I want to help _you_, you see? You gave me a reason to care enough to get involved again. It's not about saving the world this time; it's about cutting you free from the net you got caught in. And if saving the world is a result, then all the better."

"Oh, Hermione," he whispered in her ear. "What did I do to deserve you?"

She snuffed up her tears and chuckled. "You helped pick my books up out of the mud. You have no idea the effect a thing like that can have on a swot."

He kissed her temple. "As long as you realize that there's no escape for you now. You're my swot and I intend to keep you."

"Good," she said. "I'd like to be kept."

He chuckled and squeezed her tight. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"What really went wrong with the other bloke? Ron. I can't understand why he would have let you slip through his fingers."

With a sigh, she pulled back to explain. "It wasn't just him. It was me as well. We'd both gone through so much and we handled it in completely different ways. He needed for life to go on, and I couldn't let go of the horror. Getting together in the midst of a battle was a mistake but it felt inevitable at the time. He'd been my best friend. He'd been there with me through all of it. But things between us started to change right from the start. Suddenly I was just the little woman who was only interested in books and research and knitting. It was like he forgot there was more than one side to me. He made my part in the war smaller with each retelling until you would have thought all I'd done was follow them around making tea and toast and offering the odd bit of clever advice while they did the manly work. It was delusional and added to the tension. He couldn't understand why I was having such a hard time, since I apparently hadn't done much."

He kissed the top of her head. "Well, that makes me feel better."

She gave him a startled glance. "I'm not sure I follow."

He snorted. "I've been afraid I would do something unintentionally and drive you off. However, it seems all I have to do is avoid being a complete fuckwit like him."

She snorted loudly and punched him lightly on the arm. "Enough of this. My flat will soon be too small for your ego at this rate. Feed me. I'm starving."

"Yes, dear." He picked up his cloak and swept it around his shoulders with a smirk. "What would you say to finding a decent curry?"

"I would say, 'Please.'"

He chuckled and offered her his arm and they were out the door.

:

Hermione slurped up the last of her drink and jammed her straw into her glass to break up the ice. "Thank you," she said. "It's been twenty years since I last ate poppadoms."

"Very funny. Technically, I think you should have said, 'It _will_ be twenty years until I last ate poppadoms.'"

She giggled and tried to steal one off his plate, but he poked her hand with his fork. "Not even for sex."

She giggled again and sat back, patting her belly. "So was there a reason you wanted to get me away from Hogsmeade besides curry?"

He flashed her an appreciative look and then threw up a Muffliato. "We need to talk more about what's expected this weekend, and I didn't want to risk being overheard."

She nodded and signaled the waitress for another drink. "I gathered as much."

He smirked. "Such a little know-it-all, you are."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Did you get that from my memories?"

"No, why?"

"You used to call me that when I was a student, only you said it with much less warmth."

"I would sodding well hope so. I'm not a bloody kiddy-fiddler and another twenty years of dealing with these little pests is hardly likely to change that."

She giggled as her new drink arrived. "You're not really going to teach for another twenty years, you know. We'll get him this time and then you'll be free to do whatever you want."

He nodded distractedly as he dragged a bit of poppadum through the sauce on his empty plate.

"Is there anything you'd want to do instead?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I've no idea what I _can_ do. I could work in an Apothecary, like you, I suppose."

"What about working for the Ministry?"

"Doing what?"

"I don't know. What interests you?"

He sighed and sat back. "I don't know anymore. Until I met you, I would have said money and power, although to that point I'd done fuck all to acquire either one or the other. I suppose teaching's as good as anything. I do get room and board, so I won't starve. Of course, it doesn't pay, so if I ever quit, I _will_ starve."

She sighed. "Severus, you hate teaching. Surely there's something else."

"I dunno, I think I would enjoy it more if I taught DADA."

"Not until He-Who's dead. The position's cursed. Riddle did it when he was turned down for the job."

"I thought that was just talk."

"Nope."

Snape slumped down in the booth. "That stupid bastard. He ruins everything, doesn't he?"

"Pretty much."

He sighed. "What do _you_ think I should do?"

"I've no idea. I don't know you well enough to make that sort of advice. Ask me again in a year."

He grimaced. "You really think it would take that long to get to know me? I don't see where I'm all that complicated."

She laughed. "Snape, you're one of the most complicated individuals I've known in two different realities."

"No, I don't think I am. I think I'm rather simple."

"Oh?"

He shrugged. "I just want to feel important. It's all I ever wanted."

Reaching across the table, she took his hand. "You're very important to me."

He grinned, stroking her hand with his thumb. "And there you go. A happy bloke. See? Simple."

She laughed and tugged on his hand, pulling him close as she leaned across the table to kiss him. "Now, tell me what I need to know."

He squeezed her hand and let go, crossing his arms as he planted his elbows on the table. "First off, I doubt my soundproofing spells are up to their listening spells, so there can be no discussion between us in private that we wouldn't say in front of them, are we clear?"

"Crystal."

"You'll see lots of absurd affectations this weekend, but they're really just a bunch of bloody wankers. Quite the letdown for me, let me tell you. I'd thought them all so far above me, and in reality they're like watching a really bad panto. Just don't be too amused. It's not good for your health.

"Another thing, there's an outside chance that the Dark Lord might be there. Bella didn't say so when she owled, so it's not likely, but I thought you should know."

"Oh, gods."

"You shouldn't worry. Your shields are good enough to get past a cursory glance, and he'll have no interest in you unless you're brought to his attention. Remember, you know what I'm about and support me and therefore, him. Also, if he does speak to you, for fuck's sake, don't look him in the eye. In fact, just look at the floor. It's alright to be frightened, he expects it. In fact, he demands it. Do you think you can manage?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"No."

"Then I'll find a way to manage. Is there anything else?"

"Yes, we've also been invited to the Malfoys for New Year."

"Bloody hell. I need to make more dresses."

"Is that _really_ your first concern? You can't wear more than one at a time, and you already have more than you need. I thought you said you weren't girly?"

She scrubbed her hand through her hair and blew out a sigh. "I don't know _what_ I am anymore…"

"I understand _that_ well enough," he said emphatically. He patted her hand. "You only have to remember you're my girl. Everything else is secondary."

She smiled at him, and he raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Did you have any other questions?"

"What about the whole 'stealing me away from you and toying with my innocence' thing. That part creeped me out enough at the ball. An entire weekend of it makes me want to run away screaming."

His face changed all of an instant, turning stony as his eyes narrowed. "I'll keep you safe. We only need to get through supper on Saturday and breakfast on Sunday and then we're out. I won't let you out of my sight."

She nodded, reassured by his conviction. "I have complete faith in you."

His eyes glittered for a moment, and then he quirked a small smile. "So that's what it feels like."

It took her a moment to catch on to what he was talking about. Closing her hand over his, she smiled and said, "That's exactly what it feels like."

:

* * *

:

Just a note, in case some of you didn't see my previous story. Please make sure to snag a copy of my stories for yourself in case the above gets me bounced out on my ear. They will resurface somewhere else, but it's best to be safe.


	14. Status Quotient

**AN**: Onward!

* * *

:

They landed outside a rusty gate that was listing dangerously on its hinges. The road was overgrown and the hedges looked like they hadn't been trimmed in decades. Beyond the gate was a large Manor house with an enormous stone portico. The columns looked like they were about to collapse under the weight of all the cracked stone above it.

Hermione pushed back the hood of her cloak and lifted her booted foot out of the slushy puddle they'd landed in. Looking around to ensure they were alone, she leaned closer to Severus and murmured. "Impressive charms. The place looks like a dump."

"That's not charms. It _is_ a dump." He gestured to the two wrought iron snakes on the gates. They exuded a quiet menace and closer inspection showed their fangs were wet and dripping. She looked down and saw a patch of barren ground under each head. "There's your charms. They don't bother trying to hide their house. Murdering broken-down motorists is a sport."

"Happy Christmas," she said with a sigh.

Severus pulled her closer. "I'm sorry."

They'd exchanged presents earlier, when he'd arrived to pick her up. She'd gifted him with a set of stirring rods that she'd bought with her employee discount, and he'd given her a book on Quantum Arithmancy. The dread and anxiety had hung like a pall over the moment, and they'd just kissed and set the presents aside. Hopefully there would be better Christmases in their future. The present needed to be dealt with first.

"Now would be the time to show you're a Gryffindor," he said, squeezing her hand. "I know you're frightened, but you cannot show it to anyone but the Dark Lord. They can smell weakness."

"I know. I think I'm more upset that you had to do things like this alone." She turned to him. "At least we have each other."

She lifted her chin and gave him a sharp nod, determined to do her best for him. "Did I ever tell you that I once passed myself off as Bellatrix to sneak into Gringotts? If I can do that, I can do this."

He smirked at her, but his eyes were full of pride. She lifted her chin a little higher and smiled back.

Lifting his wand, he lashed it at the two metal snakes with a jet of green fire. They hissed and the metal shrieked as both snakes coiled back and the gates swung open. Hermione gathered her cloak close as she darted past them.

"Don't get ahead of me," he warned. "There could be other security measures. Bella's not had a weekend party since her wedding. She might not have thought to tone things down for guests."

It took them ten minutes to reach the door, but they made it without mishap. Severus spotted and disarmed three more traps along the way.

"Poppet!" Bellatrix cried as she came hurrying into the foyer. Rodolphus followed at a more dignified pace. "Oh, just drop your bags, Snape. The elf will get them to your room." She threw her arms around Hermione and kissed the air by her ear. "So glad you could make it. You're the first ones here! Did you have any trouble finding the place?"

Hermione smiled and said, "Not I. I just let Severus do all the work."

"You might want to neutralize your walk," Severus intoned, letting his displeasure slip into his voice. "Unless you were planning on culling the herd?"

Bellatrix looked past them and out the door. "No. I don't think I will. Most of the others knows what their dealing with, and those that don't should learn. Besides, I do so love to hear Alecto squeal." She wrinkled her nose. "We had to invite them to fill out the numbers."

The door closed behind them and Hermione felt the wards reset. Severus and Rodolphus made their greetings and then the other man took Hermione's hand and kissed the air above the backs of her fingers. "Welcome," he said. Severus scowled and Hermione took her hand back and slipped it around his arm.

"What a wonderful home you have," she said brightly.

"You think so?" Bellatrix said, peering at her with an intent look.

"I do. It's very atmospheric. I noticed some of the earliest architecture must date back to the eleventh century, if I'm not mistaken."

Bellatrix blinked. "Must it?" she asked.

Her husband sighed. "Yes, it must. Unlike some people, Miss Granger obviously has a discerning eye." He turned to Hermione. "If you would like, I could take you on a tour once you're refreshed from your travels. You too, Snape, if you're interested. I don't believe you've yet had the privilege."

"I'd be very interested," Severus replied.

"Oh, what fun," Hermione said, seizing the opportunity. "You simply _must _show us everything." She turned and gave Severus a dazzling smile.

"Will there be a guest of honor?" he asked.

Bella's face fell, and she seemed truly regretful as she replied, "No. I tried, but, as you know, he has great responsibilities and is not always free to indulge us with his presence."

"A terrible shame," Severus replied smoothly.

Hermione tried to look disappointed that Voldemort wasn't going to make an appearance, but wasn't sure how successful she'd been until Bella clicked her tongue with sympathy.

"Don't worry," she said, patting Hermione on the shoulder. "There will be plenty of opportunities in the future. The very near future, I should think."

"I can't express how reassuring that is to know," Hermione answered with a genuine smile. The very near future wasn't today, and they'd hardly stepped foot in the house before they'd been offered a tour. It seemed that luck was on their side for once.

:

"And here is where you can see the some of the improvements implemented by my predecessor, Oswalt Lestrange, back in 1452. Notice the joinery here on the ceiling. Remarkable work, don't you think?"

"Absolutely," Hermione replied. "And I do like the way he blended the two styles. Truly excellent work. I'd have thought it would've required refortifying the foundations."

"But it _did_. Would you like to see? It's not really part of the usual 'ladies' tour.'"

"Oh, you _must _show me!" she answered with an eager smile.

Rodolphus' stony face actually cracked into a smile at that, and he said, "Snape, where _did_ you find her?"

Severus turned from where he'd been scowling at the ceiling and drawled, "She fell at my feet."

The older man narrowed his eyes. "My, aren't we _droll_…" He turned to Hermione with an apologetic air and said, "Come. I'll take you down there. Mind your robes. I'm not sure the house elves really bother much with this part of the manse." Rodolphus yanked open a thick oak door and lit his wand before hurrying down the stone staircase beyond. Hermione shook her head and looked over her shoulder at Severus, who rolled his eyes before lighting his own and gesturing her on ahead.

They'd been at it for an hour, walking from room to room and floor to floor, listening to Lestrange recite the history of the house in minute detail. He even managed to lull her out of her anxiety by making Professor Binns seem like a compelling speaker.

Hermione had toured enough old abbeys and castles with her parents to be able to sound genuinely knowledgeable. Not that it mattered, all she had to do was toss out a leading statement, and Lestrange took the ball and ran. He didn't seem to notice that he was doing most of the talking. Severus was clearly bored out of his skull, but Hermione found herself unreasonably fascinated.

Unfortunately, the serendipity involved in an impromptu house tour as soon as they'd arrived, was offset by the fact that they were running out of rooms, and she hadn't detected any trace of a Horcrux. She wondered if her senses were failing her, or if she just wasn't close enough. Perhaps her awareness of them had faded. It had taken a long time for her to be able to feel the effect the necklace had had on her, but her reaction to the cup after that had been instantaneous and tangible from several feet away.

She swore under her breath as they entered a large, stone-walled wine cellar. If it wasn't down here, then the only place left to look was the attics, and she really didn't think she could figure out how make a request to see them seem anything other than bizarre.

It just _had_ to be here. Her stomach knotted up at the idea of Severus skulking about the Dark Lord's lair alone. There was no way she would be able to join him on that hunt, she would have to become one of them and then earn the right before she would be allowed to go to his home uninvited. As Severus said, they didn't have enough time for that.

When they came to the last room in the cellar, Hermione sent Severus a disappointed look and a small shake of her head. His expression didn't change, but he did stroke the small of her back soothingly.

"Thank you, very much," Hermione said when Rodolphus' lecture finally ground to a halt. "This was so very exciting. I do love an ancient house."

"It was my pleasure, Miss Granger. Few families are as ancient as ours, and I rarely get to indulge in a bit of architectural braggadocio."

"I've enjoyed it, and it was you who indulged me. I fear I have odd passions."

Rodolphus looked over her shoulder at Snape and said, "So it seems. You must to come again sometime. I could show you the thestral stables out the back. They're not nearly so ancient, but I renovated them myself as a sort of _sanctum sanctorum_, and I shall admit to a small pride in my charm work. Unfortunately, we've run out of time for such indulgences, and I must call a halt to the tour. I fear I might have become carried away. In fact, I know I have. Bella will be quite cross that I've monopolized your time, since I'm sure the others have arrived by now. It's almost time for cocktails, and I've left you little time to change. I do apologize."

"Not at all. You've been most gracious."

He smiled at her. "It has been my sincere pleasure," he said with a little too much warmth in his eyes. They started off back the way they'd come, Hermione trailing the older man with Severus fuming behind her.

"I hate the way he looks at you," he hissed in her ear.

"Not as much as I do," she replied softly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that," Rodolphus said as they reached the stairs.

"I was saying there is no way he loves architecture as much as I do," she answered.

The other man nodded. "Few understand our interests, I'm afraid." He turned to Severus and gave him a look full of meaning. "It's always a pleasure to share."

"Interests are the only thing I enjoy sharing," Severus snapped back.

Rodolphus' brows rose as Severus placed a possessive hand on the small of her back and ushered her passed him and up the stairs.

:

The evening got off to a tense start. Severus spoke little to her as they changed for dinner, a fact that Hermione had at first contributed to his concerns about Listening Charms. But as they changed quickly, she couldn't help feeling a little miffed that he hardly glanced at her as she slipped into her dusty-rose June Duprez dress. He helped her with the buttons in a perfunctory manner that was hard not to take badly.

"Is something the matter?" she asked quietly as she reached out to straighten the lapel of his embroidered robes.

He frowned at her and fixed it himself. Glancing about the room with his brow raised, he grumbled, "No."

He waved a hand at the door, and she bit her lip as she left the room. They headed downstairs to the drawing room in silence, and he seemed content to lurk just over her shoulder, radiating a menacing displeasure as she was introduced to the new faces. That surprised her. He was supposed to be ingratiating himself with his peers, but it was as if he'd completely given up on pretending to even like them.

Although he was right behind her, she felt abandoned as she smiled and shook hands with Alecto and Amycus Carrow, Frieda Rowle—cousin to Thorfin—and Boyd Gibbon. All of them seemed impressed that Severus had been invited, obviously a shift in his status, and none of them seemed to take offense at his demeanor. Thankfully, none of them seem particularly interested in his date, either.

Narcissa had shown a genuine pleasure in seeing her again and had gushed over her gown. Lucius' greeting had sounded sincere, but the expression in his eyes contained little to no warmth at all. When Rabastan Lestrange lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles, lingering too long for decorum, Severus took her by the elbow and pulled her away before she had a chance to greet Perrine Parkinson. Rodolphus' effusive compliments on her eveningwear produced a similar act of possessiveness. Severus walked her over to the sofa and nearly shoved her down onto it before stalking off to get her a drink.

She watched him pour her cordial, confused and more than a little hurt. Was he jealous? But he had to know she wasn't enjoying the attentions of the Lestrange brothers. This flirtatious manner of theirs had been a known factor from the start, one _he'd _warned her of. Why would he be angry at her? Was it an act on his part? She couldn't tell, and was at a loss for how to seek reassurance in the midst of this crowd.

When he returned with her glass, she shifted over to make room for him, but Gibbon and Frieda Rowle chose that moment to walk up and start chatting with him. Narcissa sat down instead.

"Have you given any more thought to opening your own shop?" she asked. "You really do have some wonderful designs."

"I haven't, really," she replied, distracted by the way Frieda put her hand on Severus' arm and drew him away. "I don't actually know enough about sewing, or business, for that matter. I just like to play with charms."

Frieda gave a throaty laugh at something Gibbon said and turned to give Severus a toothy smile full of promise. Severus had his back to the sofa, and so Hermione couldn't see his reaction. She frowned.

"Ignore it," Narcissa said in a quiet voice.

Hermione bit her lip. "Is she really going to be that obvious?"

Narcissa turned and assessed Frieda with a cold eye. "Yes. She always has been." Turning back to Hermione, she said, "I'm afraid it's something you will just have to get used to. Severus is moving up in the world, and that will always attract people interested in being associated with power. You must pretend not to notice, and if that's impossible, then you must not be seen to care."

Hermione flattened her lips together. "I don't care. I trust Severus."

Narcissa's eyes took on a fleeting look of pity before hardening again. "Severus has explained to you what sort of organization he belongs to, hasn't he?"

Hermione felt the little hairs on her arms lift up at this direct question. "He has," she said. "I support his position completely."

Narcissa gave her an approving nod before shifting closer and lowering her voice. "Then if I may be so bold as to offer some advice, don't trust him in this one matter. Prepare yourself to be let down. That way, you won't be caught unprepared. All power corrupts, Miss Granger, and our men are on their way towards absolute power. It's inevitable, and we only lose face when we let others see how much this hurts us. Severus has chosen you, and you should take pride in that. However, he is still a man. Instead of worrying about his meaningless dalliances, look to what status he bestows on you to see if it enhances your own."

Narcissa's well-intentioned advice played on Hermione's nerves, leaving her feeling slightly nauseated. Forgetting that Severus no longer identified himself as a Death Eater, she reacted badly. "And how am I to judge that? I don't know if I like the idea of being unequal in this."

Narcissa murmured sympathetic noises. "First off, his behavior has as much as shouted his belief that you are worthy of him. That can only be taken as a sign of serious intent. It's usually the precursor to a more permanent understanding. However, until his intent is declared, it raises the stakes for the others. They will want to steal you away from him while it's still possible."

"What do you mean, still possible?"

Narcissa gave her an apologetic sigh. "I'm afraid, until you are properly affianced, you're a pawn in a petty game of theirs. They will try to get you into their bed in order to lower Severus' status among them. It's a sport. Once he makes a formal declaration, you will no longer have to put up with anyone's crude advances or power games. However, if you feel you can improve your status by trading up, by all means, do so."

"No, thank you," Hermione said snippily. "I'm quite happy with the status I already have."

Narcissa smirked. "If it's any consolation, I've never seen Severus indulge in such things. I've also never seen him smile so much as he did dancing with you the other night. I suspect he is quite serious. I congratulate you on that. The benefits of being a wife are many, protection being paramount. Baubles when they stray are another."

Hermione grew flustered. Her relationship with Severus was actually only a few days old, and yet now it was assumed she was his future wife? That was a bit of a leap forward.

Narcissa didn't seem to notice her reaction. She just blithely went on with her advice. "You should know that there are certain drawbacks to being a wife as well. Paramours and fleeting associations being one of them. Not for you, mind. You just have to put up with them. Any inclination toward your own peccadillo could be fatal for you as a spouse. Status is everything, and if you cost Severus status, you might find your value to him evaporate in an instant. If you _do_ want to have your cake and eat it too, you might want to think about joining them. The rules are different if you're a full member. However, that's not the most intelligent motivation for joining."

"Are you a full member?" Hermione asked.

"No. Bella is, but I'm not interested in such things. There's more involved in the organization at that level and most of it bores me. I'm content with how things are. I support their efforts, but I leave the quest for glory to others with more enthusiasm. I have a son to raise. Besides, I have a status in my own right, and if you're careful with your oversight, you can parley what you have already gained into something that will be above and beyond what the poor little Carrows or Rowles can ever hope for."

"How do I do that?"

Narcissa laughed. "I suspect your best way is to just be yourself. You have Bella's favor already, and you caught Rodolphus' eye as well, something I don't recall anyone else doing in ages. Just watch Alecto and take care to not behave as she does. She's too stupid to realize she was invited as the entertainment. Her brother cost them status ages ago, and she's so desperate to regain some small bit that she acts the fool. No one likes a bootlicker. Keep your head up and your dignity at all times, and your status will be head and shoulders above many of those who believe they are more deserving. Severus will protect you should any of them try to take you down."

"I shall do my best," she said.

Narcissa patted her hand. "I have high hopes for you, dear. It's been a long time since I sensed I had an equal, and I do enjoy your company. Great things are coming for us, and soon we will take our rightful place in the world. The first to go will be the Mudbloods, after that, the Alectos and Friedas."

Hermione smiled, wondering if it was possible for her brain to actually explode from all the conflicting impulses. Why did she feel honored by the flattering attitudes of a woman that hated her kind? Why was she seriously ingesting advice on how to become a successful Death Eater's wife? Why was she even _trying_ to wrap her brain around accepting the fact that Severus would cheat on her eventually? She would _kill _him if he ever did.

As the others in the room started to line up for dinner, Hermione wanted nothing more than to run home and take a bath. She felt as if she'd been fouled by having their good opinion.

Lucius appeared before them and offered his wife his arm. Severus was there a heartbeat later, and Hermione was caught between the contradictory desires to either throw herself at him or preemptively slap him. He didn't seem to notice, since he wasn't really looking at her. As she took his arm, she followed his calculating gaze to the sway of Frieda Rowle's hips.

Hermione's eyes narrowed down to slits.

:

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:

*smirks*


	15. The Downside of Death Eaters

**AN:** Hugs to everyone. I have completely lost track of reviews, but you all continue to blow my mind with your enthusiasm.

* * *

Dinner was horrid. Not the food, that had been rather pleasant, but the company definitely left plenty to be desired. She'd been seated near the end, with Rodolphus at the head of the table on one side and Amycus to her right. Severus sat across from her with Frieda Rowle next to him. Bellatrix held court at the other end with Narcissa and Lucius nearest, and Rabastan and his perpetually pouty date, Perrine Parkinson, seated next to them. Alecto and Gibbon sat across from each other in the center.

Hermione ate in silence as Severus, Rodolphus, and Lucius commanded the conversation, discussing legislations that had passed in the Wizengamot that she knew next to nothing about. No one mentioned anything either illegal or incriminating, and she didn't know if this simply was polite dinner etiquette, or if she wasn't completely trusted yet.

She did her level best to ignore the way Frieda's right hand continuously disappeared under the table. Severus never seemed to react, so perhaps the sultry smiles and occasional look of challenge thrown at Hermione meant nothing.

It wasn't until the fish course that the stifling, polite demeanors began to fray. Rabastan began letting loose with subtle jibes and crushing condescension aimed at Perrine who stared daggers at Hermione as if it was somehow her fault. After every jape, Alecto Carrow, a squat little pig-faced woman, would let out a wheezy giggle that scraped across Hermione's nerve-endings like steel wool. By the sixth course, lamb, it seemed everyone, aside from her and Severus, was drunk. Alecto started openly simpering at Rabastan, blind to his rolling eyes. Bellatrix had begun snorting through her nose and tossing bits of food across the table at Gibbon. He caught them in his mouth, acting as if this was some fine display of athleticism. Rodolphus paid no heed to the looks of leering promise Gibbon gave his wife, preferring to chatter away about art and architecture in the haughty tones of a lecturer at the National Gallery. Hermione was grateful for the conversation right up until he slipped his hand under the table and grabbed her thigh. She'd flinched so badly that she'd managed to bang her knee on the underside of the table. Catching on to her predicament, Severus flattened his mouth and proceeded to scowl around the room with a thunderous expression for the rest of the meal. Frieda seemed to find that fascinating and had spent the pudding course trying to draw his attention, licking her lips suggestively.

Hermione was at the end of her tether by the time Narcissa and Bella stood up, signaling the end of the meal. It couldn't have come soon enough. Her head was pounding, not only from the tension, but from her need to keep her Occlumency shields in place for nearly three hours. The women had retired to the drawing room, leaving the men behind with their cigars and brandy.

Her relief at leaving the table was short lived. Frieda, homed in on her as soon as she'd sat down, and began grilling about Severus, wanting to know how they'd met, how long they'd been together, and what he was like in bed.

"I mean, I've known Snapey forever, you know? But there's just something different about him tonight. He's so… dangerous. I bet he's a monster in bed. The quiet ones always are. Does he have a large cock? I bet he does with that nose." The woman sighed, lost in her reverie and oblivious to Hermione's icy glare. "Don't you just love the bad boys? I can never get enough."

"Leave off," said Bella, flopping down on the sofa next to Hermione. "Snape's been around for ages. You already had your chance and blew it. He belongs to our poppet now." She said this last while patting Hermione's thigh.

Hermione smiled her thanks for that support and sipped at a glass of wine that was so sweet it nearly made her ears flap.

Frieda sneered at her, looking her over with obvious contempt, and said, "She's just a bit of fluff. She won't last."

Hermione opened her mouth to give her what for, but Bella silenced her with a hand on her arm. "Careful, dear," she said to Frieda "The poppet has a nasty side. Besides. I see great things in her future. You might not want to be on her bad side when Snape comes into his own."

Frieda's eyes widened. "Are you saying…"

"What I'm saying is that she's associated with people who are in a position to elevate her beyond your grasp, so you should act accordingly. I suspect that one day very soon she will join our ranks, and then you'd better not have made an enemy."

Bellatrix's words fell on Hermione like a stone, crushing her under a weight of new anxiety. "What do you mean?" she asked, grasping at her innocent act.

The other woman patted at her hand and replied, "I'll let Snape explain. I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise. Oh, look! Here he comes now…"

Hermione turned to see the men entering the drawing room. Several slapped Snape on the back before making their way over toward their respective ladies. He looked dour and regal as he walked over to her and drew her up off the sofa.

"You look tired," he said.

"I admit that I am. I'm not used to this much excitement, I fear."

"Then you should retire." He turned toward Bella and bowed his head, gracefully. "If you will excuse us, I shall escort her upstairs."

"Of course," Bella replied with a secretive smile.

Hermione thanked her hosts for a lovely meal, made her good nights, and had to restrain herself from bolting from the room.

Once their bedroom door was closed, she let her Occlumency shields down with whimpered relief.

"Are you alright?" he murmured in her ear.

She wanted to blurt out her opinions on the entire evening, but feared the possibility of being overheard. Instead, she just said, "My head is splitting." She rubbed her finger between her eyebrows, hoping he would understand her signal.

He nodded and said, "Let me get you something for that." He walked into the bathroom, coming out with a glass of water and a vial of Headache Remedy. "Here."

As she drank, he plucked the combs from her hair and unbuttoned the back of her gown. As his warm fingers dug into her scalp, she sighed. "Oh, that's wonderful…"

"Better?" he asked.

"Much," she replied, kicking off her slippers and unbuttoning the sleeves of her gown.

He stepped around her and walked over to the bed, pulling the blankets down on one side. "Rest will help," he said.

She frowned, realizing he hadn't made any move to get undressed himself. Pressing her hand against the neck of her gown to keep it from falling down, she asked, "Are you coming to bed?"

His cheeks flushed pink, but his voice was steady as he replied, "I have something to see to."

The guilty flush spreading across the rest of his face seemed to suck all the air out of the room.

"Something? Or some_one?_" she asked as she grew increasingly angry.

His brows snapped down in quick and potent anger. "What happened to having complete faith in me?" he snapped.

She felt the sting of guilt immediately but held her ground. "I fear it was severely battered when I caught you looking at Frieda's arse."

He looked away at that, too quickly to have been any sort of reassurance. His face reflected even more guilt before turning to stone. "This is not the time for such foolishness," he intoned in a commanding voice.

"No. It's not," she snapped. "But expect a discussion at a later date."

His head swiveled back to her and he scowled, opening and closing his mouth without reply. Instead, he jerked his head in a nod and stalked back toward the door. "Get some sleep," he ordered over his shoulder. "I'll be gone awhile." He paused at the door and added, "The doors will be warded heavily against intrusion. You do not want to try to leave, but I have made it plain you will be protected from any unwanted visitors." He turned on his heal and left in a swirl of robes.

Hermione watched him go, feeling like her world was slipping out from under her. The door crackled from the strength of his spells, and she didn't know whether to feel secure or trapped.

She changed into the pair of pajamas she'd almost left behind in her flat, grateful for her forethought. Having him return to find her in flannel sent a much better message than a silk teddy.

She crawled into the large, antique bed and curled up on her side, clutching her spare pillow against her chest like a stuffed animal. She went to sleep, trying desperately to have complete faith in him.

He was her Severus, and her doubt had obviously hurt him. She would choose to trust this time, but if she didn't like what she heard when they did talk, then she needed to rethink a few things.

:

Hermione was sitting at the table with her tea, basking in the warmth of Molly's kitchen as Ron and Ginny had a go at each other over quidditch. Harry's easy laughter filled her with the glow of long years of friendship.

A cold feeling crept over her as Harry's smile fell. He turned to her with bitter accusation on his face. "You ruined everything," he spat.

"_What?_ What are you talking about?"

"Stupid fool," Ginny said, sneering at her in disgust. "Did you really think Severus would want you? He just wanted to get his rocks off. He's had time to think now."

"Look at you," added Ron. "Do you really think he would toss over Lily for another Mudblood? These women are wealthy and belong to ancient families. You're a nothing. If he had any sense, he'd be downstairs plotting right now to turn you over to them."

"No! He's changed!"

"_You_ haven't," Harry said with loathing in his voice. "You always were unworthy, and you knew it. Didn't you? Huh? Say it, I'm Hermione Granger, and I'm nothing without my friends." He stood up and shouted at her. "Say it! I'm Hermione—"

"No!"

"Hermione!"

"_No!_"

"Hermione? Wake up!"

Her eyes popped open but the nightmarish images and the terrible weight of her self-loathing didn't fade. Squinting around in the darkness, she saw a dark shape looming over her. She slapped at it and scrambled back, getting her legs tangled in the heavy blankets.

"Shhh, it's all right," Severus crooned. "It's all right. It's not just a dream, it's this. Don't worry, I'm here."

His voice stilled her, piercing the wretchedness that was crushing her. A candle flickered to life, revealing him standing over her, holding up the Hufflepuff cup. Her eyes went wide when she saw it, and she threw herself backwards to get away.

He hurried across the room and shoved it in the chest-of-drawers before rushing back. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I just wanted to ask you if it was the right one. I had no idea it—that you—"

He growled and put his finger to his lips before hurriedly stripping out of his robes, leaving them in a heap on the floor. He crawled into bed and pulled her into his arms, and she shivered at how chilly his body was.

She felt completely stupid. She'd been so swept up in the strangeness of dinner with Death Eaters, she'd forgotten the entire reason they'd come in the first place.

He hadn't.

She burrowed into his embrace and shuddered. The intensity was gone, but she could still feel the Horcrux's terrible presence in the room.

"Shh," he said again, although she hadn't made so much as a squeak since she saw it.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against her ear before kissing it. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I can't feel it."

"Where did you—"

He silenced her with a kiss, his cool lips warming quickly against hers. Moving his mouth back to her ear, he breathed, "Not here."

She sighed and clung to him, nodding against his bare shoulder as his hair tickled her face. She shifted until her mouth was by his ear and whispered, "I love you."

He snorted and replied, "You can say _that_ louder."

She sighed, feeling several burdens sloughing away at the sound of his chuckle. "I love you," she said in a stronger voice.

"Good. I love you too," he replied, kissing her. "Just remember that. Especially at breakfast tomorrow." She didn't know what to make of that as he kissed her with escalating need.

Wrapping her arms around him, she decided she'd done quite enough thinking for one night. Severus slowly helped her undress under the heavy blankets, and it seemed as if they never stopped kissing as they slowly made love.

His face was beautiful to her, half lit by the candlelight that caused his dark eyes to glitter as he rolled them over until she was on top. His hands flowed over her body with seeming reverence, and he urged her on with muted growls of encouragement until she shuddered her release with a gasping sigh. When he reached his climax, he flung his head back onto the pillows, his hair spilling in every direction as he gritted his teeth through his ecstasy. She slumped down on top of him, and he held her tight as he struggled to catch his breath. His gasps seemed loud after their silent lovemaking.

His arms tightened around her as he pressed his cheek against hers and whispered, "I didn't do it."

Confused, she tried to push up so she could see his face, but he held her tight and murmured, "I would never risk losing you. Just remember that."

Not knowing what was safe to say, she simply murmured, "I trust you." With a heavy sigh of relief, he called his wand up from the floor and used it to flick the candle out before rolling them over onto their sides. He hugged her hard against him before kissing her temple and allowing her to get comfortable.

As she twisted and wriggled back against him, molding herself against his body, she realized she couldn't feel the Horcrux anymore. When his hand came up and cupped her breast, she closed her eyes and pressed her face into the muscle of his other arm, planting a kiss on it before settling with a sigh. Mysteries and misunderstandings would be cleared up in time. For right now, all was well with her world.

:

Hermione walked toward the bright breakfast room just ahead of Severus. The room was crowded with the men mostly gathered in the doorway and the ladies hovering around the buffet table inspecting the selections. Severus paused at a question from Gibbon as Bellatrix glided into the room.

"Good morning, poppet. Did you sleep well?" She slipped her arm through Hermione's and walked her down the long table toward the buffet.

"I did, thank you. The rooms were very comfortable. Where's Narcissa? Is she still upstairs?"

"No, she and Lucius didn't stay the night. I swear my sister stopped living once that brat came along. She's almost no fun at all. I have to thank her though. I was contemplating pushing out one of my own. Now I couldn't be bothered. Too much noise and far too much work. Come, we have kippers. I _adore_ kippers. Don't you?"

"I have to admit I've never actually had them."

"Oh! Then you must!" She took Hermione's elbow and hurried her over to the buffet, elbowing Perrine out of the way. "Move, you cow. You're taking up too much space. As always. You know, if you paid attention to what you stuffed in your gob, perhaps Raby wouldn't treat you like bog roll."

Hermione wasn't fast enough to stop the snort of amusement that slipped out, which turned out to be a mistake. Perrine slammed her plate down on the buffet table and hissed, "Don't act like you're superior to me, you frigid little _cunt_."

"Ladies, ladies," said Rabastan, walking up and taking a plate. "Can we not wait to have a cat fight until after the meal? I'm dreadfully hungry." He leaned passed Perrine and winked at Hermione. "What are you having, darling?"

"Kippers," Hermione replied in a quiet voice, hoping the scene was over.

Perrine gave her an ugly look and turned to Rabastan. "Just so you know, she's apparently not worth it. Otherwise Severus wouldn't have snuck off to the stables to shag Frieda last night." The room went silent as Hermione felt all the blood drain out of her face.

"Oh, _my_," said Bella in hushed tones of glee.

Rabastan whirled around and stared at Frieda for confirmation. The other woman just licked her lips with a knowing smile and scooped more eggs onto her plate. "I have _such_ an appetite this morning."

Alecto's hideous giggle filled the room as Hermione turned to look at Severus, still standing in the doorway. He looked at her with a bored expression while Rudolphus and Gibbon smirked. Her mind was a complete and total blank, but her body reacted viscerally. Her stomach knotted up, and she couldn't be sure which she would do first, vomit or faint. She turned and stared at Frieda.

Bella leaned in and whispered, "Go on, you know you want to. She deserves it." She licked her lips, her face flushed with an almost sexual thrill. "It's all in the _intent_, poppet. Do it! Crucio is so… cathartic."

Narcissa's words played out in her head, urging her not to react, to remain stoic in the face of betrayal. Then she heard Severus whisper, _'I didn't do it.'_

That lost phrase slipped into its proper place with a click that opened the door to understanding.

The thestral stables.

It was the only place in the house aside from the attics they hadn't seen. That's where he'd found the Horcrux. He'd needed an excuse to go outside.

She dismissed Frieda's gloating smile and turned her head back to the doorway. "You naughty man," she said with a secretive smile. "_That's_ why you came to bed so chilled. You were out inspecting the livestock." She turned back to the food. "Next time, use a Warming Charm, and I do hope you bathed afterwards."

"My apologies for the chill," he drawled into the ensuing silence before returning to his conversation.

Bellatrix hissed with disappointment as Rabastan crowed in delight. When Hermione turned to find her seat with a full plate, Severus was still chattering away, as aloof as if they'd indulged in a banal discussion of the weather.

Bella flopped down into the chair next to her and began stabbing at her kippers. "You _are_ going to make him pay later, aren't you? You're not a doormat, like Cissy, are you?"

"Of course he's going to pay," she replied just as quietly. "He owes me at least a bauble or two."

Bellatrix cackled and practically danced in place. "My dear, little poppet... I daresay our glorious leader will quite like you. I am so looking forward to when he meets you at Cissy's ball. He's quite interested in you, you know. Don't you think she'll impress, Raby?"

Hermione didn't hear Rabastan's reply. She was too busy trying not to choke on a kipper.

:

Severus stopped and shifted their bags to his other hand as the serpent-covered gate closed behind them. "Are you ready?" he asked, taking her arm.

"Yes. Definitely. Get me the hell out of here," she whispered. "I feel sick."

Severus whirled them away, and they landed right at her doorstep. She pulled out her wand and dropped her wards, shoving her door open and dashing inside.

She hurried to the kettle and filled it, feeling nearly manic about a cup of tea.

"Are you alright?" he asked in a quiet voice behind her.

She shook her head, pulling off her cloak and tossing it over the back of a chair. "No. I'm absolutely not alright."

She heard him shifting around as she stared at the kettle, waiting for it to boil.

"But…" His voice sounded wounded. Broken. "I thought you figured it out. I didn't really shag her. I just left her with a false memory."

"What?" Hermione turned around and blinked at him. "_No._ Not _that_. You said you didn't do it, and I believe you. Thank god you warned me, if you hadn't that would have been awful. No, it's Cissy's _party._ The _Dark Lord_ will be there! Severus, I don't think I can _do_ this. I'm going to ruin everything. He'll know it's me. He must. Somehow or another, he'll know, and then you'll be in danger. He'll realize what we've been doing and then he'll just make more. It will ruin Dumbledore's whole plan! I'll ruin _everything_."

Severus dropped their bags and rushed over, pulling her into a hug and kissing the top of her head. "Do me a favor and make the tea. I'll be back as fast as I can. Don't leave."

"But why? Where are you going? Do you have to leave? I _need_ you!"

He patted his pocket. "I'm going to get rid of this bloody Horcrux. I don't like what happens to you when you're near it."

She blinked several times before nodding and flicking her hand at the door. "Go. I didn't even realize what it was. Get that thing away from me, it feels like its feeding on my brain."

"I'm gone. Just be here when I return."

"I will."

She sighed as the door banged shut behind him and he Disapperated with a crack. She could already feel the relief begin as her churning fears and insecurities began to settle. It took thirty minutes before he returned and by that time, she was calm. When she opened the door, she pulled him into her arms and hugged him tight.

"Is it destroyed?"

"Yes," he said, squeezing her back. "It's done. It was vile, and I'm glad you weren't there."

She shook her head. "I've already been there, remember? I killed it the first time."

He growled deep in his chest and murmured, "Such a little warrior you are. You never cease to amaze. I don't know whether to protect you, or hide behind you."

"You're pretty amazing yourself," she said into his neck.

He snorted and pushed her back far enough to close the door behind him. "Not hardly," he replied. "Look at the way you handled that situation at breakfast. You were magnificent. It was as if you'd been rehearsed on the perfect way to respond."

She snorted and turned to remove the Stasis Charm from the tea pot. "In a way, I _had_ been rehearsed. Narcissa and I talked about what was expected of a Death Eater's spouse during cocktails. It was the most surreal conversation I've ever had, considering you and I have only been together for a few days. I'm apparently supposed to just learn to deal with the fact that you're going to cheat on me at every opportunity, and if I look like I have an issue with it, I'll cause both of us to lose status points."

She poured the tea and set the mug down before his chair. "Just so you know, if you ever _do_ cheat on me, I will hex you into the next millennium and you will never see me again. I'm not Narcissa bloody Malfoy."

She poured herself a cup and sat down. Severus sat down as well, looking as comfortable as a firstie who'd been called into the Headmaster's office.

"I would never do that," he said emphatically. "At least…" He scrubbed his hand through his hair and blurted, "I won't lie to you. I did have to kiss her. I'm so sorry! It was horrible, like kissing a lamprey. But I only did it to get her to walk out with me."

Hermione looked at how miserable he was and found herself smiling. The Snape from her school days had been forced to do far worse things than kiss a fish. This was, to be realistic, a small price to pay in exchange for a Horcrux.

"Tell me about Frieda. When did you come up with your plan?"

He blinked several times and tilted his head to the side. "You're not angry?"

She scrunched up her face. "I'm not thrilled, but it was an act, and it was, as they say, for a good cause. Literally. I admit that I was hurt when I caught you checking out her bum. Especially after my conversation with Narcissa. In fact, I was so wrapped up in all the sordid, petty details of Death Eater society that I completely forgot why we were actually there. I'm a bit ashamed of myself for that. My only defense is that the entire experience was psychotic."

"You were perfect," he said. "You were everything you needed to be and more. You can't blame yourself for getting confused. I did too. I wanted to kill them all for the way they kept staring at you. When Rodolphus grabbed you under the table I nearly screamed."

She snorted. "You weren't the only one. And just what _was_ Frieda doing with her hands under the table?"

He blushed to the roots of his hair and mumbled, "Searching for something that had already crawled up into my kidneys."

The bark of laughter escaped before she could stop it and she slapped her hand over her mouth. "I'm so sorry," she said shaking her head. "What an awful night for both of us."

He gave her a rueful smile. "You really did handle it perfectly, you know."

She snorted. "I wasn't sure. Bella was trying to get me to Crucio Frieda."

Severus shook his head. "That would have made me look like a fool."

Hermione threw her hands up. "And here I thought Bella liked you…"

"I think she likes you more than me. She seems determined to pair you off with Rabastan. He's expected to marry Perrine, and I think she's trying to find him an acceptable alternative."

"Ugh. I'd rather hang myself." She scrunched up her face, shuddering at the thought. "Tell me about Frieda's bum," she said. "That moment nearly bought you a world of trouble."

He shook his head frantically. "I've no interest in it _at all_. If you caught me ogling it, I can tell you with honesty that it was probably bad eye placement while I was formulating my plan. Frieda's a slag. She's not a Death Eater, just a sort of a groupie. She wouldn't have given me the time of day even last week, and I doubt I would _ever_ have been so desperate to sow a field that every farmer in the county had already plowed."

She snorted and sat back, sipping her tea. "Tell me about your plan."

He picked up his tea and slouched back in his chair, crossing one leg over his knee. "After the tour of the house—you were brilliant, by the way, getting him to show us the cellars—I knew the Horcrux had to either be in the attics or the stables. I needed an excuse to slip away from the party, but wandering off with you might have seemed suspicious. They've accepted you, yes, but only to a point. These are people with secrets, and they're always suspicious. After Frieda's overly familiar welcome during cocktails, it occurred to me that _everyone_ wanders off with her. Gods, rumor has it that even her brother Thorfinn wandered off with her once when he was too pissed to see straight. I realized no one would think twice about me slipping out the door with her. In fact, it would humor them no end. It's the sort of behavior they find amusing. I told you, they're all wankers when it comes to having any class.

"Anyway, I let her chat me up, snogged her in the hallway, and then talked her into slipping out to the stables. I made sure Amycus and Gibbon saw us as we were leaving. Once we reached the stables, I stunned her and left her in a stall. Rodolphus _had_ renovated the place himself. It now has both a dungeon and a private office. I found the cup sitting on a shelf over his desk in plain sight. I must have spent thirty minutes analyzing it for traps and looking for where he might have hidden the real one. It seems a strange thing for him to leave lying about. The only explanation I can come up with is that he didn't know what he had and the Dark Lord had never been in his stables. I mean, yes, there were several wards on the office, but they were easy for me to get past and just as easy to replace when I was done. I was convinced I had another copy, a decoy…," he looked at her with fresh guilt, "that is, until simply walking close to you with it sent you into a nightmare while you were sleeping. I'm sorry for that, but it did at least confirm what I had."

She waved her hand in the air. "It's done now. So you altered Frieda's memories?"

He nodded. "It wasn't difficult. She doesn't have a particularly keen mind."

Hermione snorted. "Memory charms are tricky enough when you're simply erasing memories. Planting false ones? I think you underestimate yourself."

He shrugged diffidently. "I've always been good at them. It's the only way I've survived this long. Whenever they needed someone to fiddle with a Muggle's mind, or get a bit of information without the victim being aware, they called me. Otherwise, I was as useful as a two-legged dog."

"They find you useful now," Hermione said. "What changed?"

"You mean, besides being the bloke dating the poppet?" Severus said with a smirk. "Dumbledore. We've been feeding the Dark Lord all sorts of false information, with just enough truth in it to play into his vanity. My placement in the school has begun to pay unexpected dividends and my status has risen accordingly. Lucius informed me after dinner that I'm being considered for entry into the inner circle." He shrugged. "From nothing to everything in just a few months. It's been a meteoric rise, to say the least."

If she had to guess, the expression on his face appeared to be part rueful irony and part regret. "How do you feel about that?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Truthfully? I'm a bit resentful. I would have given anything to reach this level before. I feel terribly conflicted that I had to become a turncloak to achieve it."

He darted a look up at her and away again. "I _like_ having status. I like being respected. I like being praised for my choice in women, too, to be honest."

Shoving the tea cup from side to side with his hands, he said, "No one treats me with any respect at the bloody Order meetings. At best, I'm looked on with pity by that annoying Longbottom woman. In fact…" His face flushed with guilt as he pressed his lips flat.

"Yes?"

He sighed and blurted, "If it wasn't for the fact that I knew I'd lose my last chance at your friendship, I might have switched sides again months ago." He sat back and folded his arms across his chest in a pose of defensive belligerence. "They treat me like shite, the lot of them, Moody, Dumbledore, McGonagall... It's as if risking my life, and now yours, means nothing. It's just what I'm expected to do to earn my way back into their good graces."

"What about Black and his friends? Do they make it worse?"

He shook his head. "I don't see them often, and Black not at all. I'm not sure how much he really knows about what I'm doing. The Headmaster has been keeping us separated, although that's about to end. There's a meeting of the entire order tonight."

"I think keeping you and Sirius separated shows he values you, don't you think?"

"Sometimes I do. Other times I think he's just giving me the old reach around so he can keep fucking me in the arse." He frowned and stared down at the table. "Sorry. That was crude."

She shook her head as she stood up and walked around the table to him. Placing her hands on his tense shoulders, she said, "I can understand your resentment, but remember that Dumbledore is hardly likely to Crucio you until you bite through your tongue. I think he does respect you, and remember, the night you were hurt, he stayed up worried about you. As annoying as that clock is, it shows he cares."

He sighed as she began to knead his muscles. "True," he said. "I haven't forgotten that. You don't really need to be concerned anyway. It's all just empty revenge fantasies. Even if I was inclined to overlook the fact that they're a bunch of homicidal lunatics led by a madman, there's no chance I'd risk losing you now that you're actually my girlfriend. Even if I didn't love you madly, I owe you too much."

She leaned down, sweeping her arms around him and pressing her cheek to his hair. "What could you possibly owe me? All I did was nearly ruin your life."

He barked out a laugh and shook his head. "Setting aside the fact that you helped me rid myself of my much-loathed virginity, and completely ignoring the fact that you're deluded enough to find me lovable—which I happen to think is your best trait, by the way—I owe you for giving me my self-respect back. The rest of those bastards may take me for granted, but I'm actually rather proud of myself for how I've held up. Being one of the good guys never would have happened without you."

Hermione hugged him. "Are you sure? You did once before in another life, and you did again in this one. I bet if we could look at your other quantum realities, we'd be hard-put to find one where you _didn't_ switch sides. Underneath all your anger and resentment, you've always been a good person at heart, Severus."

His shoulders rose and fell on a sigh. "I want that to be true, Hermione. I really do. But in the dark of the night, I'm never as sure as you seem to be." He bent his head back until he was looking at her with sad, dark eyes. "I don't believe I would have ever really changed if you hadn't fallen at my feet that night."

She thought about where she'd been that night, and where she had been going before the course of her life had been forever altered for her. Twisting her head around, she kissed his perfect lips and said, "I wouldn't have either."

He pulled at her until she was sitting in his lap, where he kissed her again and then just held her tight in his arms. "I'm very glad you did," he whispered.

:

* * *

:

Ta da!


	16. Called to Order

**AN**: For those how are desperate to know, it looks like we might be finished in nineteen chapters. Just, you know, FYI and all that.

* * *

Severus wrapped his long limbs around her as he cradled her against the cooling sweat on his chest. She could feel the pulse in his neck pounding against her forehead.

"That was the best yet," he gasped out, going from voracious to boy-like in the blink of an eye.

She giggled as she burrowed into his arms. "Better than the other day?" she asked, gesturing to the bathroom door. "That one still ranks pretty high in my book."

He kissed her and replied, "That one _was_ pretty amazing, but no one skinned their knees this time." He rolled over onto his side with a groan. "I didn't realize it was possible to overdo it," he said, "but I think my arse muscles are beginning to complain."

Hermione giggled again. "I know. My thighs are whinging. We'll just have to do this more often to build up the muscles."

Snape let out a theatrical sigh and muttered, "If we must…" He attacked her neck as she laughingly fought him off.

Eventually he settled with one arm around her, one of his legs pinning hers to the mattress, and his nose rubbing her ear. "You know? Whenever I'm with you, all I want to do is shag you until we're both crippled, and yet as soon as we've finished, I think that all I really wanted was this part."

She snuggled further into his arms and smiled. "Right now, this feels like the best part to me as well. I wish you could stay here forever."

His hands stroked the skin of her back as he murmured, "Me too, but we'd need a bigger bed."

"We fit perfectly," she protested. "A bigger bed would be wasted."

He chuckled. "A longer one then. When I straighten my legs, my feet hang off the end."

She pushed up and looked down at the end of the bed as he straightened. His long, pale feet appeared from the end of the quilt and he wiggled his toes at her. She giggled and flopped back as he pulled her back into his arms. "Alright, perhaps a bigger bed is in order. Not any time soon, mind. I'm poor."

"Me too. I have a little stashed away at the moment, but it's not much. Who knows what the new term will cost me? How are your fruit farms, by the way?"

"Good. My master plan is coming along nicely. However, it leaves me with barely any savings. I figure I can buy us a new bed in about a year. In the meantime, I can knit you an amazingly ugly pair of socks to sleep in. Give my investments another twenty years, and I'll buy you a grand manor house."

He sighed, "I don't want a manor house. I like this flat."

"You can't be serious," she said with a snort. "It's a tip."

He shook his head, tickling her ear with his nose. "It's paradise," he said in a soft voice. "It's where I first realized how much I love you."

She went quiet at that, overwhelmed by the restrained emotion in his voice. Twisting around, she tilted her head and kissed him. He responded by rising up over her and deepening the kiss. His midnight-colored hair fell in sheets on either side of their faces, blotting out the daylight sneaking around the drapes on the windows. He pulled back and whispered, "Would you still have me in twenty years?"

She smiled back at him, biting at her lip as she nodded. "It feels like it right now. I know it's early days, but my heart seems content with the idea that you're my one and only."

The smile he gave her for that was blinding. Kissing her again, he rested his forehead against hers and said, "You're everything to me, Hermione. I can't bare the idea of ever losing you."

She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down on top of her, letting his weight crush her to the bed. "Then don't ever lose me," she said.

He buried his face in her neck, shaking his head from side to side. "I can't if I never let you go."

She laughed. "Yes, but then you'd get in trouble for skipping the meeting. As it is, you barely have enough time to shower and dress."

He jerked his head up and gave her a look just short of pleading. "Come with me," he said. "They'll let you in. Dumbledore already considers you as part of the Order. I don't—" He scrunched up his face, shaking his head. "I hate being there. I do wish you'd come."

She only had to think about it for a moment. His need outweighed any reluctance of hers by a wide margin. She grabbed his face and leaned up, kissing his worried mouth. "Alright, but now we're really running out of time to shower. I'm not walking in there smelling like sex and sweat."

He rolled off her and smirked. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

She lightly smacked his boney hip as she tossed the quilts aside. "Wouldn't you just love it if I did?"

His smirk grew exponentially as one of his eyebrows rose to magnificent heights, and she rolled her eyes.

:

The school seemed empty. The students were gone for the Holiday, and she supposed those that were staying behind were ensconced in their common rooms. She and Severus made their way through the echoing halls without seeing another soul.

The door to the Room of Requirement appeared as soon as they reached the third floor. She smiled and pressed her hand against the door, whispering, "Hello, friend. Did you miss me?"

Pushing open the door, she found herself in a large, comfortable room, with a crackling fire and several chairs, couches, and coffee tables placed in a circle. No one seemed to have noticed their arrival, and so she took the time to look around as Severus guided her toward a sofa near the corner. She saw Aberforth Dumbledore talking to a woman who had to be Emmeline Vance. The Headmaster and Minerva McGonagall were speaking to three men Hermione didn't recognize, and Alastor Moody looked like he was terrifying Hagrid. There were several others, but she had no clue who they were.

Lily Potter was talking to a group of younger folk. One of them was the woman in the bathroom the night of the ball, and she suspected two of them were Neville's parents. Two other men, twins, had an air about them that seemed to just scream Weasley. Remus was talking a mile a minute to James, who was several feet away, glaring across the room at his wife. It appeared there was trouble in paradise.

Her eyes settled on the Headmaster who gave her a twinkling smile as he separated himself and walked over. She let out a breath at that, feeling less like an intruder.

"Miss Granger," he said reaching out and taking her hands. "It is, indeed, a pleasure to see you here at last. Alastor told me your mission was a success, and I'm looking forward to hearing the details."

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Truthfully, it was all Severus. I was asleep when he retrieved the Horcrux. I just confirmed that it was the right cup afterwards."

Dumbledore gave Snape a beaming smile. "You are a wonder," he said. "Please, make yourselves comfortable. We're just waiting for a few more people to arrive and then the meeting will start. Perhaps Professor Snape will introduce you to the others."

He left them to join Moody and Hagrid and Hermione looked around to see nearly everyone staring at them with open curiosity.

"Do you want to meet the others?" Severus asked with obvious reluctance.

"Not really," she admitted. "You can just tell me who they all are."

He nodded and placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her to the closest place to sit. She sat down on the long couch and pulled a small notebook and a pencil out of her bag. She hadn't planned on taking notes, but it made her feel like she had a purpose. Severus took a seat next to her on the long couch. She sat back and smiled at him shyly, and he gave her a nervous look, before turning his attention to the others in the room.

"This is probably the first time everyone will be together all at once, so you should meet everyone. You already know Potter and Lupin," he said with disgust. "And Lily, of course. Those two are the Prewitt twins, Fabian and Gideon. I can't tell you which one is which, I never bothered caring enough to know. They're both annoying to the point of tedium. Over there are the Longbottoms—Aurors, the pair of them. They're well known and highly respected. Alice is the only one here who doesn't seem to hate me, but the best she can muster is a sort of pity that rapidly gets on my last nerve. Then you have Deadalus Diggle, Elphias Doge, and Caradoc Dearborn talking to McGonagall. I have no idea what any of them do, nor do I care. That's Dorcas Meadows in the blue, and next to her is Marlene McKinnon, Lily's best friend. She fancies herself in love with Black, but he's less faithful than Rabastan. I guess she's just joined, since I hadn't heard she was a member before. She was a twat when we were in school."

"I'm not surprised," Hermione said. "I ran into her at the gala the other night."

"Oh?"

She flapped a hand in the air. "Not worth getting into."

"Then you have Emmeline Vance chatting up Aberforth Dumbledore, the Headmaster's brother. They do that a lot. I suspect they're shagging, but the very idea makes me so nauseous that I avoid looking for evidence. The man keeps goats for unnatural reasons. That's Alastor Moody over there. He's a piece of work…"

"Oh, I know Moody from my time."

"Was he as paranoid then?"

Hermione giggled. "Probably worse. He'd lost a leg when I knew him."

"Did you ever find out what was up with that bloody eye? It's absolutely revolting."

"Just that he lost his to a Dark Wizard. He hates Dark Magic with a passion."

Severus scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Ignorance. Dark Magic can be just as useful. There's nothing wrong with a man knowing how to turn a plowshare back into a sword when need arises. Why limit yourself?"

Smiling at his indignation, she patted his knee sympathetically.

Her smile turned brittle as she caught Lily heading in their direction. She was wearing chocolate-colored robes that made her green eyes seem to leap out and set her hair aflame. Shrugging off Remus's hand, James was moving to join them as well, his face promising mayhem. Severus hadn't noticed yet, he was still glowering at Moody. Hermione felt herself caught between resentment and panic as disaster loomed.

She was reaching for her wand when the couch shuddered. She looked around in alarm and Severus swung his head around with a startled squawk as the couch suddenly shrank down to a loveseat. She let out a surprised whoop and fell against him as they were shoved closer together. Across the room, a chair suddenly expanded into a long couch, drawing even more attention from the others.

"Did you do that?" he asked, confused.

"It wasn't me," she said, having a good suspicion as to who the perpetrator was.

Beyond his shoulder, Lily took a chair and pulled it closer to him. "Good heavens, Severus," she said with a laugh. "If you wanted the couch to yourself you needn't have gone to such lengths."

"I wasn't aware I would have to," he replied in a frosty tone. Turning to Hermione, he asked, "Are you alright?"

"Startled, is all," she answered in a soft voice.

Lacking any other seat nearby, James stalked back across the room. Remus began muttering in his ear again, obviously in vain as James snatched up a drink from the table while staring daggers at his wife.

Leaning closer, Lily asked, "We met before in Hogsmeade, didn't we? The shop girl, yes?"

"Apothecary assistant."

Lily darted a confused glance at Severus. "I'm… surprised to see you here. Does the Headmaster know?"

Severus scowled at her. "Of course he does," he snapped. "I wouldn't bring just anyone to an Order meeting. Hermione has been helping the cause all along."

Lily's green eyes widened, and she placed a hand on her chest as she said, "You were at the ball the other night. I didn't recognize you."

"That's right. I'm the one you thought was a Death Eater's whore."

Lily's face seemed to curdle at that and even Severus turned to her with a look of surprise.

"I don't believe that was the term I used," Lily said in a tight voice. "However, please accept my apologies if that's what you heard. I intended no harm, I assure you."

Lily's bravely soldiering on in the face of open hostility made Hermione feel petty. "Apology accepted," she said.

Lily smiled with open relief and then seemed to study Hermione for a moment. "I'm trying to place you, but I can't. Why don't I remember you from school?"

"I didn't go to school with you."

"I see. So did you two meet working for the Order? Or did you know each other before?"

Hermione smirked as she said, "It's a long story."

Severus snorted and flashed her a smile that startled Lily into a look of mild shock.

Hermione decided a deliberate attempt at being polite was in order. After all, this _was _Harry's mother. She'd been chatty with Draco's mum, how hard could it be to be friendly to Lily Potter? She leaned across Severus' lap to ask, "Tell me, how's your baby? I remember you mentioning him when we met in Hogsmeade."

Like any mother, Lily lit up at the question. "He's divine. Had a spot of colic there for a while, James and I alternated nights of lost sleep. But it cleared up. He's marvelous. So alert and inquisitive. He's with his new friend Neville Longbottom tonight, not that they know they're friends. Mrs. Figg, is watching both of them so even new parents could be here tonight."

"I bet they're adorable together."

"They are! They seem fascinated with each other!" She turned to Severus and gave him a tentative smile. "He's grown so much since you last came to visit. You should see him now. The two of you must have time over the holidays. What about it?"

Severus raised his eyebrows. "My holiday plans are full," he said dismissively. "Besides, I don't think your husband would approve. I wouldn't want to cause you any inconvenience."

Lily reached out and clasped his arm. "It wouldn't be like that. Now that you're not one of _them_ anymore, James shouldn't have any reason to dislike you."

Severus went still under her touch. When his voice came, it was as quiet and keen as a scalpel. "Is that what he had against me when I was eleven? Twelve? Really, Lily. I wouldn't have taken you for someone who rewrites history so easily. I'm afraid whatever fantasies you're spinning in your mind will never come to pass."

He turned to Hermione, shrugging Lily's hand away as he rose from his seat. "Would you like some tea? Or, perhaps, something stronger?"

"Is there butterbeer?"

"I don't believe so. There usually isn't at these sorts of affairs."

"Then I'll take anything," she said with a smile. She watched him stalk off across the room, stopping to speak a few quiet words with Moody and the Headmaster.

"You two seem rather fond of each other," Lily said.

Hermione glanced at the other woman but didn't see any of the jealousy she'd expected, only a badly concealed sadness. "I love him," she said baldly.

"Really? That's—I didn't—" Her face grew sad for a moment and then she lifted her chin. "I'm glad. He's… He's a good man."

Hermione tilted her head to the side, watching the other woman come to terms with the new reality.

"I'm sure he's told you about me," she said in a subdued voice. "We used to be like peas in a pod, he and I. We've known each other forever. I've never been happy with the way things ended up." She shook her head and then looked at Hermione with an overly bright smile. "There's no reason why we can't be friends again. Perhaps _you_ could talk some sense into him for me."

Hermione shook her head, feeling sad for the demise of what had once meant something to the both of them.

"I know from my own experience that childhood friends can sometimes grow apart. Not that long ago I think he would have given anything to be friends again, but now?" She shrugged. "He's moved on. I'm not saying it's not possible for you two to be friends again, but you might want to stop being so blind. Dinner parties in Godric's Hollow are never going to happen. Severus has nothing but contempt for your husband and his friends, and for good reason. I witnessed their hatred of him personally, what with attacking us back in June when we were sharing a drink and harassing me in middle of the street back in August just for being seen in public with him."

Lily frowned and swung her head to her husband who was now talking with the Prewitt twins. "I hadn't heard about that."

"I'm not surprised. You'd just had a baby. No one wants to upset a new mother."

Lily tilted her head and looked at her. "Quite."

She stared at Hermione, giving her another long, assessing look. "You must know Severus was mixed up in some terrible things. Now that he's turned his back on them, he's in danger. He'll need friends."

Hermione grew angry. That statement struck her as hopelessly ignorant. "I would have thought he'd have needed friends before he got mixed up in terrible things."

Lily narrowed her eyes. "I can see that he hasn't talked about his school years with you."

"I really don't see why he would need to. I mean, honestly, school's over. Isn't it normal to grow up and move on?"

The other woman didn't take this subtle jibe well. She gave her a strained smile and then turned away. "I can see this conversation has gone as far as it can."

"I think a lot of things have gone as far as they're going to. Perhaps you should step back and ask yourself why you think reviving a friendship that you killed is so important to you."

"_That I killed?_ He's the one that—"

"—begged for forgiveness," Hermione finished in a flat tone. "Something you have yet to do." She shook her head, knowing she was going too far, but unable to stop herself. "That was your moment, Lily, when he threw himself on your mercy and begged. If you'd wanted to salvage the bond between you, that was your chance. You threw it away. You can't have him back now just because you're bored. Go back to your husband. Severus is _mine_."

Lily's eyes went wide before flaring with badly suppressed rage. She jumped out of her chair and stalked off without a further word. Severus barely had time to dodge her, nearly spilling their drinks as he walked up.

"Thank you," she said, taking the glass of butterbeer from him.

"My pleasure. It just appeared on the table as I walked up." He followed Lily with his eyes and then sat down. "What did you do to her?"

Hermione watched the other woman as she stopped next to her husband, waving an angry hand at James' question. "I set her straight on a few things."

"Oh? Dare I ask?"

Hermione turned to him with a feral smile. "I told her that she'd made her bed, and now she could lie in it. You were off limits."

His eyes lit up, and she watched the color flooding his cheeks as he leaned forward and set his drink on the table before them. He sat back and took her hand in his, giving it a little squeeze. "Thank you," he said in a quiet voice.

She settled against him and threaded her fingers through his. "I think she really misses your friendship, Severus, but she's still stuck on it all being your fault."

He shrugged, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand. "Isn't it though? I said something unforgivable and drove her away."

Hermione sighed. "I'm not belittling the impact of being called a Mudblood, or excusing the fact that you lashed out at her in anger. Think long and hard before you ever do the same with me. However, I think dangling upside down with your robes around your armpits and half the school laughing at you, as well as the fact that you apologized profusely, should have been mitigating factors."

"_Christ!_" he hissed. "How do you know all that? Gods, am I not allowed even a little dignity?"

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You have a phenomenal amount of dignity. As for how I know, I'll tell you the story another time. It involves an orphan who had thought his father was some sort of wonderful hero, only to see your memory of that day and find out his hero was an arsehole. It's not one of my happier tales. He was crushed."

"You're talking about Lily's son, aren't you? _Your_ Harry. Why would I have shown him that memory? That hardly sounds like something I would do voluntarily."

"Technically, you didn't. You'd hid the memory in a pensive, and he was being nosy." Severus's face clouded in anger, so Hermione added, "You caught him and threw a jar of cockroaches at his head."

He blanched and mumbled, "That's a bit harsh. I thought I was some sort of bloody hero…"

Smirking, she replied, "You were under a lot of stress at the time."

He snorted, and squeezed her hand. "When am I going to get to hear all your tales?" he asked, changing the subject. "I feel disadvantaged with you knowing so much about me. I know nearly nothing about you."

"You know enough to like me. That counts for something, doesn't it?" When he looked only partially mollified, she bumped his shoulder with her own. "What about after the meeting? You can come back to my place, and we can just talk."

He gave her a small smile and nodded. "I'd like that."

The door opened behind them and two more people came in. "Ah, Sturgis! And I see you have Edgar with you. Splendid." Dumbledore said, his voice carrying across the room. "Let's find our seats, shall we?"

There was an upswell in activity and noise as everyone moved to sit down. Hermione took a sip of her drink, licking some foam off her lip, and set her glass down on the table. She reached for her notebook and pencil, fussing needlessly with her things to avoid the curious stares of the other Order members. She was vaguely aware that the door had opened again but didn't pay any heed until the crack of it slamming rang out through the room. She looked up to see Sirius Black gripping his wand and staring daggers at her and Severus.

The pleasant chatter died down and Dumbledore said, "Sirius. I see you've decided to finally join us. Perhaps now we may begin."

Sirius jabbed a finger at Severus. "Tell me what _he's_ doing here, first." He walked several paces closer, his eyes making demands of the Headmaster, while his finger still pointed at Snape like a weapon. "I thought we were gathering to discuss how to eradicate Death Eaters, not invite them and their little trollops for drinks. Or is that the plan? We lure them here for tea and biscuits and then cut them down? It doesn't seem sporting," Sirius turned on Snape and twitched his wand into a dueling stance, "but I guess it's acceptable."

Severus had snapped to his feet at the mention of 'Death Eaters' and had drawn his own wand and stepped in front of Hermione at the word 'trollop.' This was the second time she'd seen Severus in combat mode and it was just as shocking. All traces of her boyfriend were gone, leaving behind a man chewing on the leash that kept him from murderous rage. His lip curled back, exposing his crooked teeth and his eyes narrowed down to slits.

She had to bend around him to see Dumbledore's reaction.

"Mr. Black, you disappoint me," the Headmaster said in a tone rife with displeasure. "I had thought you trusted my judgment in such matters. Professor Snape has been a tremendous asset to the cause."

"Has he?" Sirius snapped. "Or has he only been toying with you from the start? How do we know his change of heart was sincere? What proof do you have?"

Dumbledore's beard twitched into a frown. "I have my reasons, which I had intended to present tonight at this meeting. Now, if you will just take a seat—"

Sirius shook his head. "Take a seat? In the same room as him? He lies, Albus. He's never uttered a truthful word in his life. Peter's _dead_ from his words. That's right, Moody let him go yesterday and now he's _dead_. How do we really know Peter was a Death Eater? The very idea is _ludicrous_, and yet everyone just takes it as a matter of course." He turned to James and Remus. "Why do you accept it? All we ever had was Snape's _word_."

"Don't be thick," Lily snapped. "If Severus was going to lie and accuse one of the bloody Marauders, do you really think he would have passed up the opportunity to accuse _you?_"

Severus let forth a dark chuckle in response to that.

"Give it a rest, Evans. We all know how you have a soft heart where Snape is concerned. I'm just saying that Peter was our mate for a very long time and it's highly suspicious that this one, with all his love of Dark Magic, suddenly turns and a timid soul like Peter is all of a moment fingered and subsequently killed."

"I questioned Pettigrew," Moody said in a growl. "He hadn't taken the mark yet, but his heart was shriveled black from his cowardice. I didn't hold him all these months on suspicion. I couldn't get rid of the bugger. He admitted what he was, although he hadn't committed any crimes as yet, and was too afraid to be a man about it. We finally had no choice but to tell him to shove off. We can't keep a man forever without charge even if he wants us to, and he wasn't trustworthy enough to use as a spy."

Sirius didn't seem mollified in the least. "What did he admit to? Being afraid of the Dark Lord? Maybe he might have been approached, but if you'd given him time he would have come to one of us. He didn't have to die from suspicion alone." He turned back toward Severus. "Which one of your friends killed him?"

Severus looked to the headmaster, who nodded. "Travers," he said. "The Dark Lord ordered his death because he couldn't be trusted when he came running straight to us yesterday morning."

Sirius growled in anger. "And did you warn anyone?"

"I only found out last night."

"How convenient," Sirius spat. He shook his head again. "Dumbledore, I respectfully put forth that you're being made a fool of. We have no reason to trust anything this bastard says. I call for a debate on whether or not we should allow Death Eaters into our Order."

To Hermione's horror, the majority of people in the room started nodding in agreement.

She stood up, taking up a position next to Severus.

"You're making a fool of yourself, boy," Moody growled. "To what purpose would Snape risk his hide to steal a Horcrux from under their very noses? I destroyed the damned thing myself not three hours ago. There are things going on that you're not aware of, and you only parade your ignorance."

"Really?" drawled Sirius. "What happened to your vaunted 'constant vigilance'? It seems to me that you're acting a little out of character here. That just makes things more suspicious."

Moody looked like he was going to spit, but then thought better of it. "It's no good, Albus. You better tell them."

"So it seems. We are on the verge of success and divisive sentiment will cost us more than anyone is willing to pay." Dumbledore drew himself up and stared around the room with sadness. "My friends, we were given a powerful tool last summer in our fight against the dark forces gripping our world. We were given knowledge of the future. I have in my possession a timeline of events for the next twenty years in intimate detail. This is why we knew the location of Tom Riddle's Horcruxes. This is why we knew Peter Pettigrew switched sides. This is why I know my much-maligned Potions master is trustworthy beyond your right to judge. And, finally, this is why I have asked you all here tonight. We are only days away from destroying the last chance of Riddle's return. Once that is done, we must move swiftly, and with no hesitation or doubts about our unity of purpose, to ensure the peace and tranquility of our world. Too much is at stake for dissent. I will not tolerate any."

"How?" asked Remus. "How did we get this knowledge?"

"It was handed to me by one who already fought this fight." He glanced at Hermione and she nodded her permission. "Our Miss Granger, whom very few of you know, was sent here from the future to change a terrible past."

"What past? I don't like fiddling with time," said Edgar Bones. "It's never done to change the past."

Hermione snorted. "Well, you might want to change mine because in my time, you've all failed. The vast majority of the people in this room are dead and dust when the war starts up again." She scowled at Lily and James before turning her gaze on the Longbottoms. "You leave the war to be finished by orphans and half-grown children. Lives will be destroyed and this very school will fall." She looked at the Prewitt brothers. "Your sister Molly's entire family is at the center of it and not all of her children survive." She turned to look at Severus. "Some of those that do survive your failure in the coming year are so scarred they don't care about anything but revenge, spending the next seventeen years in misery as they selflessly work to defeat evil… only to fall without ever knowing if it was worth it."

Shifting her gaze around the room, she said, "I was sent to ensure that didn't happen. The future has shifted, but that doesn't guarantee success. If you turn on the one man you need most now, Severus Snape, you will fail again, and who knows how the future will play out then?"

Her words were met with absolute silence as the Order members stared at each other. Severus took Hermione's hand and lifted it, kissing her fingertips. She smiled up at him and he reached out and swiped at her tear with his thumb.

"You were _sent?_" scoffed Sirius. "Sent by whom?"

"Sent by a powerful ally that we didn't know we had," said Dumbledore. "Miss Granger was sent by Hogwarts. It seems our failure and the price of eventual victory were too much for the school itself to accept."

Even Severus startled at that. He looked at her with wide eyes before he gazed around at the walls of the room.

"_Bollocks_…" Sirius folded his arms across his chest. "It's all words," he said petulantly. "She could have made it up. This whole thing could be a lie. From the future? What nonsense is this? I say we've all been hoodwinked."

Severus turned on him, wrapping an arm around Hermione and pulling her into his side. "You utter _fool!_ How else would we have known your bloody house-elf was hiding a Horcrux? _No one_ knew what happened to your brother. Not even the Dark Lord!" he hissed. "I've _seen_ the future she lived in. I'll not have you call her a liar when I've seen her truth."

"Oh, yes, and you're quite the character reference, aren't you Snivellus? And who talked Reg into doing something so patently suicidal?"

Severus snarled in fury, but the Headmaster stopped whatever he was going to say with a gesture. "Miss Granger, perhaps a brief synopsis of Mr. Black's life in your time."

She scowled and lifted her chin. "In 1981, the Dark Lord takes it into his head that the Potter's baby is a threat to his survival. Severus finds out he means to kill them all and warns Dumbledore…"

Hermione stared Sirius in the eye as she rattled off his history, sparing no truth and lessening no horror. She turned and stared Lily down as she spoke of the deaths of her and her husband, and how her infant son had been left a living Horcrux and a victim of her sister Petunia's resentment and anger. She told them of the broken man Remus became, thinking one of his best friends had killed all his others, leaving him alone with nothing but his pain and solitude.

She spoke of the only thing that Sirius had lived for in all his years in Azkaban, revenge, and how he had escaped and ultimately failed. That Peter escaped his wrath and went on to resurrect his Dark Lord.

"You end up living at number twelve, Grimmauld place, as a virtual prisoner for the next year because you are a wanted man. You allow it to be used as the headquarters for the revived Order of the Phoenix. The place is a dump. Your house-elf Kreature hates me and never stops calling me a Mudblood, your family tapestry is full of holes from all the names that were burned out of it, and your mother's portrait never stops shrieking about the vile filth tramping through her home. However, Harry adores the house and you as well because you're his godfather and one of the few links to the parents he never knew. You fail him a year later by ignoring the Headmaster's orders and leaving the house. You're killed by your cousin, Bellatrix, when she stuns you and sends you falling through the veil in the Death Chamber in the Hall of Mysteries. In the end, the only thing you did for Harry was give him a broom, a set of dress robes, a moldering old house, and another death to mourn."

She narrowed her eyes. "Is that enough? Or do you want to hear how Harry almost died trying to save you from dementors or how the two of us saved you from being executed?"

Sirius blinked at her, having grown alarmingly pale. "No, it's…" He looked over at James who was hugging his wife with haunted eyes. Sirius just stood there, shaking his head until Remus walked over and squeezed his shoulder. "It's not true,' he whispered to Lupin. "I wouldn't fail like that…"

Severus' angry retort was checked by what looked like a flyer falling from the ceiling. Another appeared and another until it was snowing fliers. Snape snatched one out of the air and looked at it. He barked a harsh laugh and handed it to Hermione. "And the students accuse _me_ of looking like a vampire."

One look confirmed that it was Sirius' wanted poster. There he was, with long, matted hair, waxy skin, sunken face, and shadowed eyes. The print underneath was just as alarming and over-blown as she remembered.

"As I stated earlier, Sirius," Dumbledore said. "I find your lack of faith in me disheartening. If you truly feel your doubts are supportable, I won't ask you to strain yourself with belief. However, I will have to ask you to leave, and your memories of our activities will not leave with you. I will have to ask Professor Snape to remove them, as he has the most facility with such charms."

Sirius looked up from the flyer and his eyes travelled from Severus to Hermione and back to the Headmaster. "No," he said. "I'll… I'll stay."

Dumbledore nodded and gestured to an empty seat. People shifted and shuffled, murmuring to each other as they found their seats again. Severus hugged Hermione and guided her back down as a shrill voice cut across the room.

"And_ Harry?_"

Hermione looked up to see Lily, pale as a ghost, working her fingers into knots. "Did my Harry survive?"

Swallowing against the lump in her throat, Hermione nodded. "Harry Potter was my best friend. We struggled to keep him from harm from the moment we all met at school. I followed him for seven years as we fought against the Dark Lord and his minions. In the end, he left us all to spare us and faced death alone." She nodded, swiping uselessly at her tears. "Harry killed Tom Riddle and saved the world. He was a great hero, and a better friend."

She turned away, unable to say anymore, and Severus curled her face into his chest as she began to quietly sob.

'Shhh," he crooned softly. "You fixed it. It won't happen now."

She shook her head, inconsolable at her loss. "It _did _happen," she whispered. "They were my best friends, and I left them. The pain was too much, so I abandoned them all… I'm so selfish! He'll never be my Harry now! He'll be…like _them_."

"Oh, Hermione," he whispered. "I'm so sorry." He hugged her tight and rocked her as she wept for everything in her world that she'd walked away from.

He held her throughout the rest of the meeting, while they discussed plans for what would happen as soon as the last Horcrux was destroyed. A committee was forming to tally how many people would be needed to round up all the Death Eaters in one lightning strike, and a system of communication was worked out, based on Patronuses. Severus explained the events of the weekend that led to his bringing the Hufflepuff cup to Moody earlier, and there was some discussion as to what to do if the diary wasn't at the Malfoys' home.

Hermione took little of it in as she clung to the warm, reassuring strength of the man holding her. He was all she had in the world, and she was afraid of how much she needed him.

A cool hand took hers, and she looked up to see Alice Longbottom looking at her with tear-filled eyes. It seemed the meeting had broken up without her noticing. "And my Neville? Did you know him?" Alice asked in a whisper.

She nodded around a fresh wave of tears. "Neville grows up to be an amazing person," she said. "He's so brave."

When she couldn't say any more, Alice simply nodded several times and pressed Hermione's hand to her cheek. "Thank you," she whispered. Turning her head, she added, "And thank you, Severus. I'm so sorry for not trusting you more. I won't fail you." With that, she straightened up and walked over to her husband, who'd been hovering in the background. The two of them left, leaving them alone in the room.

"You never mentioned a Neville before," Severus said. "Was he your friend as well?"

Hermione nodded, struck by an irrational impulse to laugh. "Neville held the record for the most melted cauldrons in the school's history," she blurted in a low voice. "He drove you demented."

Severus snorted and shook his head as he urged her up off the small sofa. "Speaking of demented, let's get you home. You have stories to tell me and still have to teach me how to call up a Patronus."

As soon as he said the words, the room changed. Gone were all the sofas and chairs, to be replaced by the old, Dumbledore's Army practice room. Hermione giggled. "I think the school wants to watch you learn."

He looked around warily at that. "Is it true that the school sent you back?" he asked, keeping his voice pitched low.

She nodded. "I spent a year helping rebuild the school, specifically this room. It had been gutted by Fiendfyre in the final battle. This was the last place I came that night. I said my goodbyes, and it tampered with my Portkey."

Severus narrowed his eyes at the walls, floor and ceiling. "That's a bit creepy."

She laughed. "Show a little gratitude. Remember, it dumped me at your feet."

His eyes danced. "Then I like your friend very much."

She slanted a look up at him and smiled. "Good. I like that you like my friend. This is the only other one I have left besides you. Now, about Patronuses…"

:

"What the hell is that?"

Hermione felt her entire body sizzle with joy as she watched Severus' Patronus morph into shape. She giggled and clapped her hands together like a child.

"It's an _otter!_" she breathed in wonder.

"Why do I have a bloody otter? Is there some significance?"

"It signifies that you love me," she replied with a loopy grin. Grabbing his hands, she danced him around in a circle and laughed at the look of offended confusion on his face.

His eyebrows jumped up toward his hairline. "In what mythology is an otter a creature of domestic bliss?"

She gave him a dazzling smile and called up her own, watching as it swam out of her wand and gamboled around his. "It's not. It's just that your Patronus matches mine because _I'm_ your happiest memory."

He smirked, tugging her hands and pulling her into his arms. "It should be covered in mud then. After all, _that_ is my happiest memory."

She giggled and settled into his arms as he kissed her.

:

* * *

:

Awww...


	17. The Last Horcrux

**AN:** Here it comes…

* * *

Hermione heard the tinkling of the bell and set her pestle down on her bench. Wiping her hands on her apron, she headed out toward the counter with her friendly smile in place. It stiffened but didn't completely crack under the strain when she saw Alecto Carrow standing at the counter.

"Good afternoon," she said, taking pride in her pleasant tone.

"Hermione, how lovely to see you again. Are you all set for tomorrow night? It's going to be quite the party. _Everyone_ will be there."

"I am. In fact, I can hardly wait. I'm _so_ looking forward to Narcissa's opinion on my dress."

Alecto's disturbing smile flattened fractionally at this reminder that Hermione had the ear of more powerful people than Alecto.

"Yes, well, some of us have more elaborate hobbies than shopping," Alecto replied, clumsily alluding to the fact that she was an actual Death Eater and Narcissa wasn't.

"Oh, I have lots of hobbies," she said, never losing her smile, "including potions ingredients. Speaking of, was there something you needed?"

Alecto frowned and looked about the shop with subtle contempt before waving at the shelves of stocks with her stubby fingers. "I've been looking for Ashwinder eggs. It seems the apothecaries in both Knockturn and Diagon are out. Would you happen to have any?"

Hermione smirked. "Love philtres are always the big item this time of year. So many people dislike being alone for the holidays. Most of them fail, sadly. Unless your intended is slightly feeble-minded, they can only do so much to hide the truth. But I'm sure you're probably trying to make an anti-spasmodic, yes? Nothing better for cramps, they say. Shame about the timing. Aunt Flo at New Year… such a pity."

Alecto gave her a poisonous stare. "Do you have any or not?"

She nodded. "Just got a new shipment in this morning. It's in the backroom. How many do you want?"

The Death Eater looked like she was trying to bite her tongue off before she spat out, "Six."

Hermione allowed only the slightest knowing look to linger in her eyes before she grabbed up a small, cardboard box and turned away. Six was _far_ too many for cramps. She went through the boxes in the backroom, wondering if she was going to get the honor of seeing Rabastan Lestrange casting mooneyes at the dumpy little witch.

The bell over the door sounded again, just as she found the small crate filled with straw and eggs.

"I'll be right there," she called as she packed up the eggs carefully and added a Stasis Charm. Walking back out to the counter, she found Sirius Black standing there alone with a forlorn expression on his face. He was mangling the hat in his hand. She looked around, but Alecto was nowhere to be found.

"Miss Granger," he said, sounding entirely subdued. "I came to apologize for the other night. Well, all the nights, really. I've been thinking about what you told me about my future, and I—"

Hermione flapped her hand at him, stepping around the counter. "Don't," she hissed as she looked around the shop for the missing Death Eater.

"But I _must_," he blurted, scrubbing his hand through his thick hair.

She whirled on him. "No, really, you _mustn't!_" She jerked her head to the side, trying to convey that they might not be alone. Twisting around, she called, "Miss Carrow? Are you there?"

"Listen, Hermione, if you _did_ come back in time—"

"Shut _up!_" Hermione snapped. "Did you see anyone leave as you came in?"

Sirius looked at her with a mixture of insult, anger, and dawning suspicion. Shaking his head, he looked around. "No. I saw no one."

She swore under her breath. "Alecto, dear. Are you here? I have your eggs."

Sirius's eyes widened as he realized who was in the shop. He flushed until his face was the color of beetroot. The door to Mr. Applethorn's empty office opened and Alecto walked out. She looked up, evidently surprised to see two people staring at her with concern.

"Sorry," she said. "I needed the lav." She bustled over to the counter and pulled out her purse.

"I see you're busy," Sirius said. "We'll talk another time."

Hermione scrunched up her face and shook her head. "No need. I heard you the first time. It's fine. Everything's fine. Just… go away."

She walked over and set the box on the counter. "That'll be fifteen and six," she said in a flat voice.

"_Fifteen Galleons?_ For some eggs?"

"And six Sickles," Hermione snapped, watching the door close behind Sirius.

"I say," Alecto said in a tone of suppressed delight. "That looked a bit like a lover's tiff. You're not running around on our poor Snape, are you? A bit of revenge for Frieda? And with Bellatrix's sympathizer cousin, it seems. Tsk tsk."

Hermione panicked, unsure if it was better to let her believe her idiotic suspicions or deny them and leave the woman to ponder further.

"No. Nothing of the sort. The fool tried to attack Severus and I while he was drunk and obviously feels some remorse now that he's sober."

"Really? What was all that blather about you coming back in time then? Back in time for what?"

Hermione felt her stomach sink. "I don't know," she said. "I have no idea what he was talking about. Please, you're making too much of it. That man is a sot. Just ask his cousins."

Alecto's smile spread into a vicious grin. "Oh, I intend to." She handed the coins across the counter, saying, "Love has _such_ a price…"

Hermione stared at her in escalating apprehension as she left, quietly closing the door behind her.

:

"I'm telling you, this is _bad!_"

Severus pulled her into another hug, she'd been so restless with worry she kept squirming out of his arms. Sirius had fled to Hogwarts and told Severus what had happened right away. He'd shown up only fifteen minutes after Alecto had left, and she'd been so agitated that she'd closed up early and fled to her small flat before falling apart completely.

"Don't worry about it," he crooned for the tenth time. "You said yourself, at worst, she thinks you cheated on me with the bastard. If she spreads the tale, I lose status. Soon enough, my status among Death Eaters will be meaningless anyway. There's no reason for all this panic if we just keep to the plan. Be social and gracious, don't drink anything I don't hand you myself, and don't go looking for the diary until after midnight. It won't be any worse than the Alumni Ball."

"But what if the diary isn't even _there?_ What if your bloody Dark Lord sleeps with it under his pillow?"

Severus shook his head. "Dumbledore thinks the Horcruxes create an uncomfortable harmonic that the Dark Lord can't abide. That's why he keeps them so far away from him."

"Well that's crap because he kept Nagini by his side all the time."

"Yes, but by that point, he'd created three more, the Potter brat, Quirrell, and the damned snake."

She frowned. "Quirrell was a Horcrux?"

"Not a conventional one, but he had to have been possessed by the Dark Lord's soul for a bonding of that sort. Anyway, the fact is, the Dark Lord's own soul would have been so depleted by that point that he probably couldn't even feel the pieces anymore. Perhaps he already can't and hiding them is just a habit."

She shook her head, pushing back out of his arms again. "But what do we do if she _does_ tell everyone I cheated on you with Black? How would that play out?"

Severus sighed and let his arms drop to his sides. "Then I will most likely have to give some showing of disapproval and take you home. If it does come up, be prepared for me to give you some version of a 'just wait until I get you home' face and be cold to you for the rest of the night. The Death Eater version is a bit frostier than you might expect. The fall out afterwards would normally entail your groveling a bit during your next public appearance and Black's death at my hand. Unfortunately, this will all be over before I get a chance to kill him. I will, however, happily cripple him for being so completely fuckwitted that he would bollocks up a simple matter of remorse."

Hermione shook her head, swiping at her wild hair. She'd pulled her pins out in despair. "This is bad,' she said. "I feel it in my bones. Something is going to go terribly wrong." She looked back over her shoulder at him. "I shouldn't go. You know what the diary looks like, and you didn't really need me to find the cup."

He rolled his eyes. "I can't go to the Malfoy's ball without a date, and the only reason I found the bloody cup is because you were clever enough to shove a ring through Rodophus' nose and drive him around his own house like an ox."

She turned on him. "You're not understanding me—"

He scowled at her and snapped, "—and you're not trusting me! Nothing will happen to you, do you understand? I will keep you _safe_."

She stood her ground for a moment longer, and then relaxed as the meaning of his words sank in. "You know? I'd actually forgotten that you were Severus Snape for a moment. I'd mistaken you for just my boyfriend. I'm used to guys who don't think things through far enough. Of course I have no reason to be afraid. You've never let me down." She sucked in a deep, cleansing breath and blew it out. "I feel so much better now."

He folded his arms across his chest. "Good. Now, you're not the only one who's had a stressful day. If you remember, I've been inducted into the bloody inner circle. Since you declined my offer for a decent meal, then I accept the offer for sex. Get in bed."

She scowled at him, ruining her indignation by smiling. "I don't recall an offer of sex."

He raised an eyebrow. "I just made it."

She smiled wider at his mock impatience. "Oh, I see. I'll just pop onto the bed, then, shall I?"

"On second thought," he said in a dead sexy voice. "Why don't you hop up on the table?"

The effect his words had on her body was almost criminal.

:

* * *

:

Hermione stood in front of her bathroom door and fluffed at her hair. She'd charmed the door to be reflective again and was giving herself a critical once over. Her gown, the pewter Armani, skimmed her curves a little too closely for comfort. The thick silk looked almost like liquid the way it moved about her. The high neckline flowed into two, long scarves that fell down her bare back. The long sleeves were too formfitting to hide anything with subtlety, so she'd opted to keep her wand in a small pocket charmed into the seam of the skirt.

Not bad for a two-Galleon potato sack, which was exactly what the original dress had looked like.

She wasn't sure about the hair. Bellatrix seemed to like it, and her leftover jitters about Alecto made her want to slither further into Bella's good graces. She'd left it down, but had gooped it up to keep the curls defined. The result was a _lot_ of curls. She finally chickened out and pulled two locks from the side back and pinned them in place with her combs and a Sticking Charm.

She'd finished it off with her black flats, preferring the options of fight or flight to fight or trip-and-fall-on-her-face.

She jumped when there was a knock at the door, and then hurried over to drop the wards and let Severus in. He pushed back the hood of his voluminous cloak and stared at her in silence. Biting her lip, she twirled in a slow circle, revealing the long expanse of naked flesh from the low-cut back.

"You look exquisite," he said when she was facing him again.

She gestured to his cloak and murmured, "Your turn."

He smirked and popped the clasp, revealing a crisp, white collar tied with a black, silk cravat. His black velvet robes had emerald green piping along the edges that matched a green waistcoat, embroidered with black spirals.

"Wow," she whispered. "I'm going to have a fight on my hands to keep the other women at bay."

He snorted. "Hardly. Wait until you see Lucius. He always shows off. He was positively subdued the other night because he knew he had tonight to really shine."

"You make him sound like a fop."

"Just calling it like I see it," he said. "Are you ready?"

"Pretty much. I'm only worried about this." She lifted a hand and gestured to her hair. "Is it alright?"

His critical glance made her nervous as he studied her, and she made a note to teach him the 'Yes, dear' Rule of Law he missed in Boyfriend 101.

"It's missing something," he asked.

Panicked, she blurted, "What? What's it missing?" She twisted around and stared at herself in the mirror as he came up behind her.

"Baubles," he said, lifting his gloved hand to show her a set of glittering earrings. Each had a large, teardrop diamond dangling from an only slightly smaller round stud. "Narcissa has informed me that a contrite Death Eater makes amends with baubles."

She let out a shockingly girlish gasp that made him chuckle. "Severus! You shouldn't have!" She shook her head. "Seriously, this is too much! You didn't actually do anything worth a bauble."

He gave her a mock scowl and gestured for her to take them. "I _did_ kiss her, although that was its own punishment."

"But… these must have cost you a fortune."

He smirked. "They must have cost my grandfather a fortune," he replied. "Please. I want you to have them. They were the only nice thing my mother ever owned, and she never got to wear them."

She felt the sting of tears instantly. "_Oh_."

Taking them from his gloved hand, she put them on. Lifting her head, she met Severus' proud gaze in the mirror.

"Beautiful," he said quietly. He took her hand and lifted it, leaning over her shoulder to plant a soft kiss on the knuckles. "Hermione, you are everything I ever dreamed of in all my years of being alone. I just wasted years putting the wrong face on my dreams until I saw yours."

"Oh, god… Now you've gone and ruined my eyeliner," she said with a sniffle.

His eyes glittered with pride as he smirked.

:

Hermione stopped just inside the door and gave Severus a brittle smile as he swept her cape from her shoulders. The entrance hall to the Malfoy's home looked almost exactly the same as it had the last time she'd been dragged through the door as a prisoner of the Snatchers. The only thing missing was the despair. This house was shinier. Happier. Grander. In Hermione's future, frustrated dreams and madness had appeared to infect every surface until the house reflected the owners in seeming tarnished despite the splendor.

Pale-faced portraits, only half remembered, stared down at her from their frames and Hermione felt herself shrinking as she waited for Severus to hand off their cloaks to a house-elf. She couldn't bear to look at the elf. She wouldn't be able to keep her composure if it was Dobby.

Severus placed a cool hand on the small of her back, running his fingertips across her skin, and gestured toward the knot of people ahead of them.

"Remember," he said, "we won't start snooping until well after midnight. Until then, we'll just enjoy the party."

She snorted. "_Sure_ we will."

"By the way," he added. "I've taken care to ensure you won't be bothered by any unwanted attention tonight."

"Oh? How did you do that?"

He never turned to look at her as he murmured, "I told them you've agreed to be my wife."

Hermione felt her eyes go wide just as Lucius Malfoy turned to greet them in all his resplendent glory. Severus hadn't been exaggerating. Lucius looked like sin in his black, brocaded dress robes with their ice-blue lining.

"Snape. I see you made it, and your lovely lady, as well." He turned his pale eyes on her and for the first time she saw something akin to genuine emotion. "Welcome."

Hermione's brain was almost a complete blank as she placed her hand into his expectant one. "Thank you," she said as he kissed the air above her fingertips. "You have an impressive home..."

"I know," he said dismissively. "I understand congratulations are in order. Cissy is very pleased for you. She had a feeling this would happen, and was happily surprised by the timing."

"I'm still surprised myself," she said, refusing to look at Severus, for fear of her expression. "It was very sudden."

"New Year's is a day for wonders and possibilities." Lucius turned to his companions and said, "Allow me to introduce you to these fine gentlemen. Here we have Bartemius Crouch Jr., Antonin Dolohov, and Igor Karkaroff. Gentleman, this is Severus' new bride-to-be. Make her welcome in my home."

Hermione turned her frozen smile on the others, stepping closer to Severus as she greeted Dolohov. He looked almost bland when not in a murderous rage. Karkaroff, on the other hand, was rather splendid looking. He had thick, wavy hair and a glossy black goatee and carried himself with a proud bearing. Like Lucius, the cold look in his eyes detracted from his appearance. As for Barty Crouch Jr., Hermione only had the pictures from the paper to go on, and he didn't resemble them at all. In her personal memories of the man, he still looked like Moody.

She exchanged greetings with them all and waited as they chattered with Severus, offering him congratulations and mock advice. Her mind was still reeling from the liberty he'd taken. According to Narcissa's rules of Death Eater etiquette, it _was_ a good way to keep the other men at a distance, and yet, she couldn't help feeling like he could have given her more warning. Despite the logic of the ruse, she felt stung that he would act so cavalierly with their relationship. Feeling as if she'd totally lost her bearings, she smiled at the others and allowed him to lead her off. It took her a moment to realize he was leading her away from the music.

"Aren't we going to join the dance?" she asked.

"There's something I need to take care of first."

"Oh, I see."

She walked along in a flustered daze until they arrived at the doorway to a library. Severus paused as several people came out, and took the time to introduce her to Yaxley, Travers, and their dates, whose names she forgot as soon as she heard them. When they were alone again, she leaned in close and hissed, "You could have warned me, you know."

"About what?"

"_About what?_ About telling them we were getting married. When were you supposed to have asked me?"

"Late last night," he replied in a bland voice as they headed through the double doors. "As for the short notice, I thought the indignation would help you through this next part. I hope your shields are up."

"Of course they are," she snapped. "What next part?"

The answer came from a horrifyingly familiar voice.

"Ah, Severus. Good of you to join us. And I hear glad tidings are due. Come. Let me meet your charming fiancé. I've heard such lovely things…"

Severus gave her a little nudge and pushed her into the center of the crowded room. Hermione struggled not to let her knees buckle as she found herself standing a mere five feet away from Lord Voldemort himself.

"My lord, may I present my fiancé, Hermione Granger?"

Hermione felt a wave of nausea sweep over her as he approached. It took her a moment to realize it wasn't in her head. The roiling evil that she'd come to associate with a Horcrux was walking closer, holding out its hand in greeting.

Severus pinched her hard on the back.

She jerked her head up but managed to catch herself before she met his eyes. Bobbing a strange sort of curtsy, she kept her eyes on the floor and said, "It's an honor."

"Ah, lovely. Such lovely manners. Wherever did you find her, Severus?"

"We met in Hogsmeade, my lord."

Hermione heard a giggle and darted her eyes to the side, where she found Bella and Rodolphus Lestrange standing by the fireplace, looking on with pride. Bella had an almost manic smile on her face as she waggled her fingers in greeting that turned Hermione's legs to water. It was far too reminiscent of the expression she wore later when she'd gone insane.

Hermione couldn't stop the shudder as a bone-white hand took hers and a cold finger under the chin tilted her face up. She locked everything but her love for Severus and her abject terror behind her Occlumency shields.

Everything she'd ever heard about Tom Riddle before his resurrection had made it plain he was once a handsome man.

He was not. Dark haired and pale as death, he had slightly bloated, pasty features that looked like they'd been carved out of wax. She pinned her gaze to his nose, unable to look elsewhere. It occurred to her that it was the first time she'd ever seen Voldemort's nose and the perversity of the thought lent her a manic grin of her own.

"Forgive me," he said, "but, have we met? There's something… familiar about you."

Her grin froze and died as she shook her head.

_Horcrux_, her mind whispered behind her shields. She'd spent months wearing one and had personally destroyed another. Had she built up some sort of resonance? Could he feel it, even out of time as she was? She had no way of knowing. The world's foremost authority on the subject was the man before her with the shattered soul.

"I would think I would have remembered you, my lord," she whispered. "But I'm told I have a common face. Perhaps I favor another?"

He pulled his hand away, leaving her skin feeling frostbitten where he'd touched. "Perhaps," he replied, moving away. "Perhaps."

He walked over to a large, wingback chair and sat himself down as if on a throne as Hermione dropped her gaze back to the floor.

Footsteps entered behind her but she dared not look to see who it was. Lucius' voice carried across the room. "My lord, Macnair has arrived… and so has Carrow."

"Ah, yes. Send him in. As for our errant sister, tell her to wait. I'll meet with her in private when I've finished." There was a pause as Voldemort turned to Severus. "Alas, business calls. You must excuse us, Miss Granger. It was an honor to meet you. Enjoy the festivities. Perhaps we shall speak more later."

She jerked out another curtsy and darted a look up at Severus, who bowed his head before turning them away. Every fiber of Hermione's being wanted to run, but they headed out of the library as a sedate walk, passing Alecto Carrow on the arm of a fawning Rabastan Lestrange on their way.

She felt sick and dizzy and completely at sea.

Severus guided her to another door and before she knew it, she was in the drawing room standing on the very carpet that she'd thought she'd die on.

Arms came around her and hugged her tight, but they couldn't thaw the block of ice that had taken over her soul. What was she doing here? Why had he brought her to this room? No one who really cared about her would ever have done such a thing. Her _true_ friends would have understood, but she'd left them. In her need to feel sorry for herself, she'd turned her back on every single person who had ever really known her. All she was left with was this skinny, hook-nosed, little bastard who didn't really know her at all. All he cared about was getting his rocks off. Oh, he spoke all the right words, but then again, he was _Snape_. Who could really trust him? He had to have been using a potion or a charm on her to get her to willingly climb in his bed.

She pushed him away in disgust, staring up at his sallow, homely face. Turning away, she wrapped her arms around herself and walked in aimless circles. Worthless. She was worthless. A filthy Mudblood who was good for nothing more than fucking. She didn't even deserve a pig like Snape. She didn't deserve a _Pettigrew_. She was nothing. She was less than nothing. A fool who orphaned herself from her parents, her friends, and even her very existence. She didn't deserve to live.

Raising her arm, she pointed to the small cupboard built into the wall. "It's here," she ground out through clenched teeth. "In there."

Severus came up behind her and placed his hand on her shoulder. Shuddering with revulsion, she turned and fled.

She was halfway to the door when he grabbed her by the hand and pulled her in a new direction. She was blind to the faces that loomed into view and deaf to the greetings being called. All she heard was the music drawing near and then he was there, crushing her against him as he danced her across the room to the orchestra

"Hermione," he whispered, barely audible above the music. "Please, God, drop your shields and look at me."

She did, and he slipped into her mind like a warm caress. She felt a tremulous smile stretch her mouth as the cold, hateful thing lost its grip and fell away. He filled her with peace and tranquility and endless, boundless love. His black eyes flared with pride and love as he slipped back out of her mind. Darting her glance around his face, she sighed.

Beautiful.

He was beautiful.

It was still the same face, but released from the influence of the last Horcrux, she knew that this was the only face she ever wanted to gaze at.

"Did you find it?" she whispered as she slid her shields back into place.

He grimaced and shook his head. "I didn't stop to look. I'm sorry. I thought, from the way you acted, that it was in the library. I tried to get you away from it and only made things worse."

"No. That was _him_. I could feel him, and…," she looked into his eyes, "he could feel me. And the diary… it was so much worse this time. Was it because he was close to it? If that's the case, what does that imply?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. It's nothing. Let it go. Don't you see? We've only just arrived and we've already won." He stoked her back with his thumb as he they swayed to the music. "It's over, Hermione. You've done your part. I'll do the rest."

She nodded and clung to him as he danced her around the room. After the third song, she felt her vice-like grip on his shoulder begin to relax and knew the worst was over. They could do this. She'd met the Dark Lord and survived, and they'd managed to find the last Horcrux within moments of arriving. All she needed to do was make it through the rest of the evening and she and Severus would never need to worry about such things again. She smiled proudly. He was almost free, and then the future was theirs to do with what they pleased.

When the music stopped, she gave him a grateful smile. His eyes crinkled up, and he turned and escorted her over to where Narcissa was seated on a couch with two other women.

"Will you entertain my lady while I fetch her a drink?" Severus asked her.

Narcissa beamed at them and held her hand out, giving Hermione's a little squeeze before tugging her down to join them on the couch. "Of course! Sit! Ariadne this is Hermione. I told you about her. She's lovely. Hermione, this is Ariadne Dolohov and her sister, Caryn Gamp."

Warm greetings were exchanged and Hermione returned a fragile smile as she tried to calm her overly sensitive mind. Along with every other feeling of insecurity the Horcrux had churned up, she felt a twinge of conscience. If everything went according to plan, everyone one in this house would be arrested, or worse, within a few days. And yet, here she was making friends to the end.

Narcissa hugged her arm and said, "Miss Granger here is going to marry our Severus. I'm so glad he asked you. And so soon! Why, you didn't even _hint_ at an engagement the other night."

Hermione smiled. "That's because I didn't know myself. It was a sudden decision. He didn't even wait to buy me a ring before he asked me."

Narcissa laughed and pointed to her earrings. "But he _did_ buy you those. This is a triumph! Not only did he give you a token of humility, but he claimed you so quickly afterwards! You're on your way to great heights, my dear. Now, tell me what all that fuss was when you two started dancing. You looked so upset when you came in the room."

"I'm afraid that was my fault," Severus said, returning with champagne for Hermione. "I thought it would be easier on her if I didn't warn her she was to meet our lord. She was more than a bit upset at the lack of preparation. She fears she made a fool of herself."

Narcissa nodded with understanding and made consoling noises.

"Trust me," Ariadne Dolohov said, leaning across Narcissa to pat Hermione's knee. "Preparation wouldn't have helped. I think I squeaked like a mouse when Antonin first presented me."

"Really?" Hermione blurted. "I was _so_ overwhelmed! I think I came off like a complete twit."

Caryn leaned closer and lowered her voice. "I fear our lord thinks we're all twits, darling. You'll just have to get used to it. So when is the wedding? And where?"

Hermione went pale and darted a look at Severus.

"We haven't settled the details," he said. "We were thinking perhaps in the spring."

"You can have it here, if you'd like," Narcissa said, turning to Hermione. "Since your family is scattered."

The understanding in the woman's kind expression made Hermione want to throw up. "Your offer is very kind," she said. "It would be an honor."

Narcissa looked up as Lucius approached, and her face lit up with pleasure to see her husband. "Lucius, you're just in time. I've offered our home for Severus and Hermione's wedding."

He smiled but the look in his eye was flat and menacing as the two Malfoys exchanged a pregnant silence. "Such things can be discussed at a later time." He turned to address Severus. "Our lord wishes to speak with you in the drawing room."

Hermione felt her spine turn to jelly, but Severus showed no reaction at all. "Of course." He turned to Hermione and said, "If you will excuse—"

"Both of you," Lucius said in a forbidding voice.

Hermione frowned and turned to Narcissa for guidance, but the older woman offered no support or advice. In fact, her face had gone cold and expressionless. Caryn turned to her sister and said, "I believe I see Dahlia, shall we go say hello?" And just like that, the two women got up and walked away without a backwards glance.

Hermione placed her hand in Severus's and stood up with stiff grace. She looked from Lucius to Narcissa and saw only cold contempt on both their faces.

"Come," Severus said. "One doesn't keep our lord waiting."

A thousand questions raced through her mind as he led her out of the ballroom and across the entrance hall. Lucius followed behind them, looking far too much like a guard.

Hermione swallowed against the fear that built up. Could something have gone wrong? But they'd only arrived less than twenty minutes ago…

She quailed as Severus escorted her towards the drawing room. The last place in the world she wanted to be was that room. Her blood ran cold at the very idea of being in the presence of both Voldemort _and_ his last Horcrux. However, this time she knew what to expect and was prepared for the crippling insecurities.

Gathering her overtaxed wits together, she began sorting through her brain, shoving certain things behind her shields but leaving others open to display.

As they entered the room, the doors closed behind them. Hermione felt the subtle whoosh and pop of a powerful Silencing Spell. Waiting for them was the Dark Lord, Bellatrix, Rabastan, and Alecto. Lucius was standing behind them blocking the doors. Alecto's eyes were red and puffy and her face was a blotched mess. Rabastan looked angry and alternated between sneering looks at Severus, and murderous glances aimed at Alecto. Bellatrix had no expression at all which was even more disturbing. She stood directly behind Voldemort as he sat in one of the chairs.

"Severus," Voldemort said as the weight of his poisoned soul began to press against Hermione. "I'm sorry to have to pull you away from the festivities, but it seems we have a situation."

Severus bowed his head. "My lord, I am ever at your disposal. If I can be of any service or assist in any matter, you must think nothing of calling on me."

"Your manner does you service. Unfortunately, this matter pertains to you, or, more specifically, your fiancé."

Severus frowned, and then looked over his shoulder and gave Hermione a withering sneer that weakened her knees. She dropped her face to the floor as he took several steps away from her.

She started trembling. Now that she knew what she was dealing with, she was doing a much better job of fighting the negative influence, but it was still a struggle, and the ominous tone that the situation was taking on wasn't making things any easier. She focused on the fiction that she'd had a quick fling with Sirius, hoping to be able to use it if her mind was invaded. Perhaps, if she admitted to a minor misdeed, things would end quickly.

"Has she displeased you in any way?" Severus asked in a censorious tone of voice that promised swift reprisal if she had.

"That remains to be seen. It appears our sister, Alecto, turned up some news of potential interest. To my great displeasure, she did not offer this information freely, but as a pathetic bargaining chip to ameliorate her own misdeeds. It seems she tried to ensnare our brother Rabastan in a way I personally take issue with. She has been punished, however, as I said, an issue pertaining to your Miss Granger came to the surface under… questioning. The veracity of her claims have been proven, but they are vague as to actual intent or mischief."

"My lord," Severus replied. "You have only to lay your charges at her feet. If there is any truth to them, we shall deal with them straight away."

Hermione slowed her breathing down as much as possible, trying to remain calm and look innocent. It was growing harder to fight the cloying influences in the room.

"There is the possibility that your Miss Granger has been collaborating in some way with Regulus Black's brother, Sirius. Alecto believes them to be having an affair behind your back."

Severus twisted around and stabbed her with a shocked and disgusted look before shaking his head slowly. He allowed a look of confusion to steal across his features. "Forgive me, but this seems unlikely. Not long ago, the two of us were accosted by the man on the street in Hogsmeade. It was an ugly scene and Miss Granger was quite distressed by the situation."

The Dark Lord's laughter sucked the last of the warmth from the room. "Astute as ever, Severus. You see, Alecto heard Black's exchange with Miss Granger through the filter of her own, craven loneliness. However, when I examined her memories, I heard something quite… _different_."

Voldemort stood up and walked closer, and Hermione's stomach wanted to rebel as he approached. She clamped her teeth together and stared at the all-too familiar design on the carpet.

"We know who Black is associated with, and we cannot be overly cautious where that one is concerned. This is, on its face, a tawdry and pathetic tale. However, I cannot underestimate my adversary. Plans have been foiled, persons in positions it took years to gain have suddenly become useless, and actions that we've taken great pains to keep hidden have become known. All within the last few months. This points to a leak in my organization, Severus. A leak that seemed to have started not long after Miss Granger first came to your attention."

She felt his burning gaze as he came to stop only inches away. "There is just… _something_ about you, young lady, that doesn't seem to sit well."

Hermione felt a cold, clammy finger tilt her face up and knew they'd made a terrible mistake. No manufactured memory of kissing Sirius Black was going to work with this man. She shouldn't have come. The old Hermione would never have been so stupid. What the hell had she been thinking? Balls and hair and dresses… This was what she'd turned into? A little dormouse, terrified of a snake? This entire idea had been stupid. Why had she never questioned the Headmaster's plan? There's _always_ a flaw in the plan.

She felt as if she'd only just woke up from a long slumber. There'd been so many better ways to have dealt with this. What would have been so bad about sneaking in while they were all out for the day? Or tricking Lucius into freeing Dobby and asking him to retrieve the book?

It was too late now. Not even Severus could protect her from the doom that was about to descend. They'd worked on her shields these last few days, but they weren't anywhere near where she'd need to be to take on one of the most powerful Legilimens known to history.

Knowing she wouldn't last in the face of Voldemort's assault, she began to create a separate shield behind the first. Stronger, but much smaller. Too small, she feared.

"Forgive me, Severus," the Dark Lord said with believable regret. "But I must know the answers to these little mysteries. I shall try to be gentle."

Severus's reply jolted her, even though she'd known it was coming. "Do what you will, my lord. If she is loyal, she will forgive."

"Exactly my thought," Voldemort said. With a painful pinch on her chin, he snapped, "_Look at me_."

Hermione cried out when her eyes met his. His mind burned its way into her brain, burrowing into her memories like a white-hot wire. The insidious influence of the Horcrux across the room and the vile sickness emanating from Voldemort undermined her efforts, and her defenses tore like tissue paper. She retreated, leaving behind nothing but her terror and pain. Trying to guard her secrets by shifting them constantly out of the way, she instead left him to sort through the banal minutia.

_Packing and unpacking endless potions supplies. _

_A dozen meals eaten alone in her flat or at her workbench. _

_The charm on her slippers failing, leaving her with shoes full of slush. _

_Her first dance with Severus. _

_Her conversations about clothes and hair with Bellatrix and Narcissa. _

She fought to paint herself as shallow and insipid, hoping he would grow bored and leave.

He didn't. He ripped through these easily, searching deeper into her mind.

She began to sacrifice more meaningful memories, all the while building and reinforcing her last, tiny shield around the two things she would gladly die before revealing. She had the sensation of running through a warehouse, throwing boxes down behind her to stall the pursuit.

_Looking up at Severus on the stairs and realizing she was falling in love. _

_The feeling of pride to be seen at his side._

_Rolling naked with Severus, first in his bed, then in hers._

Voldemort blasted through these with a palpable sensation of disgust. So much for hoping he was a voyeur. She felt a tearing sensation and cried out as personal images began to surface against her will.

_Standing in the park last summer watching a young mother pushing her baby in a pram. A pleasant-looking man strolling along next to them with pride._

_The same couple, older and sadder, talking to a stranger in Australia and growing increasingly agitated._

_The same people walking their frizzy-hair daughter through Diagon Alley for the first time to buy school supplies._

"Lies!" Voldemort screamed in triumph. "She is full of lies! _Mudblood!_"

Hermione moaned as the room erupted with shouts and felt a tug on her dress as her wand was ripped from its pocket. The pain of the intrusion magnified, and she knew it was hopeless now. Her conscious thoughts folded in on themselves, protecting her two precious truths as a mother would curl over her children to keep them safe.

Voldemort blasted through her memories with ease, now that there was no longer any resistance. She no longer paid any mind to anything but keeping her treasures safe in their tiny hiding place. Her thoughts turned into a roaring mélange of vertigo-inducing chaos, and she knew wonder that anyone could make sense of it. She clung to her last shield, willing herself to die if it failed.

The roaring, churning chaos stopped in an instant, leaving one crystalline memory spinning in place. There, filling her mind and her heart, was a teen-aged boy with cracked spectacles standing over Voldemort's dead body.

She could feel the mortal terror the image instilled in him. The blood-curdling realization that he wasn't immortal. That all his years of plotting and planning were for naught.

Hoping to either provoke him into either killing her or fleeing her mind, she called up a memory and sent it floating toward the boiling terror.

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... _

Hermione crowed with triumph as Voldemort let out a wail of rage and fury and fled. His mind jerked out of her brain, and he shoved her away from him, sending her sprawling across the room. She cracked her head against the wall by the cupboard, and slid down onto the floor. Even her proximity to Tom Riddle's Diary, only a few inches away, couldn't pierce her joy. She'd done it.

Voldemort might have scoured her brain for answers, but she'd held on. She'd endured.

He had no idea that Severus was a traitor, nor did he know nearly all of his Horcruxes had already been destroyed.

"_Who is Harry Potter!_" he bellowed.

The shout echoed in the silence as his followers all looked at each other in confusion, all but Severus, who looked at her with nothing but betrayal and contempt.

"My lord," he said in a rasping voice. "He is a child. A baby. Born last summer to James Potter."

Voldemort spun around and grabbed Severus by the front of his robes. "He must _die! _They all must die! _Now!_ Tonight!"

Severus nodded his head. "I will go kill them myself."

"No!" screamed the Dark Lord, throwing flecks of spit on Severus's robes. "Not you! _You_ brought this down upon us all. This filth came from the future to destroy us, and _you_ failed to see it!" He spun around and stared down the others in the room. "You all failed me! You brought it _here!_"

Bellatrix grabbed her wand and scuttled toward her, crouching over her and jabbing her wand into the bones over her heart. "My lord, forgive me. We will kill them. We will pile their heads at your feet. Let me start with this one!" She turned on Hermione with fear and fury. "Let me break her." Hate twisted her features as she bellowed, "_Crucio!_"

Hermione screamed as the pain engulfed her. She writhed as all of her nerve endings burned. Her head repeatedly slammed against the wall until her twitching spasms threw her flat to the floor.

"Stop," Voldemort said in a soft voice.

Hermione gasped and curled into a ball when the pain ceased.

Bellatrix stepped back as Voldemort approached.

Images assailed her, and she was once again lost in a world where she was never good enough. Where she was unworthy. Where she would never fit in. Her triumph was nothing but ashes. It was only a matter of time before Voldemort figured out those petty truths she'd tried to hide. Her efforts had been in vain, as all her efforts had ever been. She was filth. Nothing. Unlovable and inhuman.

"This is what they want," Voldemort said, kicking her onto her back. His manner seemed calm once again. "They seek to destroy us by inciting fear. By making us act too soon."

She heard his scaly laugh and knew no greater misery.

"To their credit, they almost succeeded. Bella, destroy this filth. I know all I need to know." He stalked away, leaving her staring up at Bellatrix, willing the woman to just get it over with. Death held no terror for her. She was unworthy of life. It would be just.

"My lord," blurted Severus. "As you said, I brought this filth among us. Allow me the deed. So I can begin to erase my shame."

"Oh, Severus…" Voldemort said. "Your willingness to kill your lover after years of cowardly reluctance does you credit. But I fear even that won't begin to cleanse your shame."

Hermione struggled to prop herself up, resting her head and shoulders against the wall, her skirts were twisted around her thighs, and she'd lost her shoes somewhere. Those facts seemed important for a microsecond before vanishing.

Hoping against all rational hope that there was a reason he volunteered, she said, "Not him. Anyone but him. It was enough that I had to fuck him on Dumbledore's orders. Let me die by another hand…"

Bellatrix hissed and swung her wand up. Hermione screamed as her body was set aflame with another Crucio. She felt her body tearing itself apart as it tried to obey its multiple signals all at once. Her reflexes were her worst enemy, fighting against the impulse to do the exact opposite. She tasted blood and salty tears as her knee slammed up into her mouth.

When the pain receded, dignity demanded she force herself back up against the wall. She was no shrinking violet. She was Hermione Granger. She would _not _die cringing.

She fought for each breath until she had enough to grind out, "Poor Meriope Gaunt... unloved by anyone, unlovable to anyone…"

"I've changed my mind. Severus, kill that _thing_."

She refused to look at her lover as he crossed the room to stand in front of her. Instead, she bent her head to look around him. Her eyes seemed to take forever to track as she sought Voldemort out.

"And pity poor Tom Riddle, who styles himself the true heir of Slytherin, when he's just the son of a squint-eyed whore who used potions to fuck Muggles..."

She looked in Voldemort's eyes and grinned at him with teeth full of blood. "So I'm a Mudblood. Bollocks to you, you sorry bastard. At least my parents loved me."

It was then that she looked at her Severus, with his beautiful mouth twisted in fury.

"I've been well loved," she whispered.

He betrayed no reaction, and his wand never wavered as he raised it and hissed, "_Avada Kedavra!_"

Hermione's eyes flew wide in shock as the acid green light exploded out of his wand. "Oh, _fu_—"

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*looks over the cliff at all the dangling readers*

*cackles*


	18. The Little Warrior

**AN:** Aw, come on. You _had_ to know I was gonna do that. I've been good. You regular victims, er, readers know I've been good and have been expecting it all along, right?

Alright, I know. I was bad. But it's just so much _fun_!

In other news, the AK in the end was simply misspelled. My bad. I've fixed it now, but obviously it screwed up the story a bit. That and the other small errors you've seen creep into the fic are a result of my having little time to post and resorting to slapping up chapters at wtf o'clock, along with my inability to stop noodling with a story even after I get it back from the cleaners.

Right. On with the show…

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Pain stabbed into her ears as the green light flowed over her. Hermione felt as if someone had touched a live wire to her brain. She instantly went limp as she lost all muscle control. When the pain faded, she found her neck was bent at an alarming angle making it difficult to breathe.

She couldn't move, couldn't blink, even twitching a finger was beyond her, but none of this mattered in the face of one simple fact:

She wasn't dead.

She'd been hit in the face with the Killing Curse, and yet…

A memory whispered to her, and she heard Severus' voice, sounding so much younger than it actually had been, '_I was useless. A waste of everyone's time… I can't even cast the Killing Curse at rats._'

She wanted to shout, to laugh out loud at the trick he'd played. She knew there'd been a reason he'd volunteered, but had forgotten he was still crap at killing things…

However, if he was so bad at it then it should have simply failed. Why couldn't she move? And what had been that pain?

Her questions evaporated as a shadow fell across her. Severus came into view, looking grim. He placed two fingers on her neck, managing to push her over as he checked her pulse. She fell to the floor with a painful thump, but at least her neck was straight.

"She'd dead, my lord," he said, straightening up and tossing her wand onto the floor. From her new angle, she could only see him from the knees down. His velvet dress robes blocked most of the rest of the room.

"You took too long," Bellatrix snapped. "You let her speak that filth."

"Sticks and stones, Bella. Her lies and distorted view of the world cannot harm our lord," Severus replied.

"Well spoken, Severus," Voldemort said. Hermione heard them shifting around and then Voldemort spoke again. "We still have the small matter of your treason to discuss, however."

"Treason, my lord? Surely you don't think—"

"What I think or do not think is hardly for you to decide."

Hermione felt the floor jolt as he crashed to his knees. "My lord, you have only to look in my mind! I swear I had no idea! I only thought she was suitable because of Bella's good opinion!"

"Blaming others is beneath you," Voldemort snapped.

"In his defense, my lord," Lucius said. "He speaks the truth in this. His first impression of the Mudblood was unfavorable."

"Regardless of intent, the fact remains that _he_ brought her among us!"

"I didn't know!"

"You _should_ have known! All of you should have known! She was filth, and you let her among us! I sensed it right away! Why didn't you?"

Hermione strained her eyes to try to move them and see beyond her range but to no avail. All she could see was Severus' back sitting in a pool of black cloth and the backs of his outstretched hands. His wand dangled from his slender fingers.

There was silence until he said, "I can make amends! Let me go and find the boy, my lord."

Voldemort's voice was calm again when he replied, "No. I will make no move until I have had time to plan. When I do, it will be with people that I trust. I don't trust you, Severus. Your judgment is severely lacking in certain matters. You have displeased me."

Voldemort's robes swept into view as he started toward the door. "I leave it to the rest of you to punish your brother. Do no irreparable harm. I need him to spy."

"With Dumbledore's spy dead," said Rabastan, "Snape is compromised."

"True," said Voldemort. "But I may want to use him send a message. You have your orders." He swept out of the room to the merry sounds of laughter and music.

When the doors closed, the silence settled once again, broken by Severus' harsh breathing.

"Do what you must," he spat.

Hermione inwardly screamed at Lucius' growled, "_Crucio!_"

Severus was thrown backwards to the floor where she had a captive view of his torture. To her horror and amazement, he didn't begin to scream until the third round. As he convulsed, his arm slapped at her. Bellatrix's curse sent him bucking against the floor so violently that his head slammed into her stomach. She felt each blow but was helpless to react. She lay there unable to even blink to soothe the burning sting of eyes that that desperately wanted to weep.

It seemed to go on forever…

By the time they had finished, Severus was lying in a twitching ball with the curve of his spine only inches away from her face. The room was preternaturally calm without his screams.

"Enough," Rabastan said. "Any more and his brain will be mush."

Hermione saw Lucius' ice-blue lined robes sweep into view and heard him mutter, "When you can walk again, Snape, I suggest you tidy up and take your rubbish out. You know how Cissy feels about her carpets." Hermione heard the door open and close as they left him.

Deprived of a physical reaction, her screams were trapped inside her own skull as she willed him to move, to get up, to show her by any other way than jerking uncontrollably, that he was whole and sane.

His shoulders started to heave rhythmically and it took her a moment to realize he was sobbing as quietly as possible. Her heart broke as he began a slow rocking motion…

…and then he slowly uncurled.

Hermione wanted to shout with joy as he flipped over onto his stomach and raised himself up on his elbows. His head swung around until he saw her and her joy turned to ashes in an instant. His face was a mask of red with blood pouring from his nose and split lip. He fumbled with his robes, pulling several vials from his pockets with shaking hands. Instead of trying to drink one, he placed the vials in her out-flung hand and then heaved forward and kissed her brow.

" 'M so sorry," he whispered, his words garbled from his injuries. "I fail' you…" When he pulled away, he left the copper tang of blood behind. He reached out and stroked her jaw before plucking the earrings he'd given her from her ears, shoving them into his pocket. Picking up her wand, he placed it in her other hand, uselessly curling her unresponsive fingers around it.

Taking a moment to gather his strength, he then crawled past her with agonizing slowness, gasping and hissing with every inch. She heard his grunts and whimpers as he clambered up the cupboard where the last Horcrux was hidden. Several objects fell as he grabbed at them, and something solid even hit her in the head. Nevertheless, his struggles paid off. He gurgled as he dropped back to the floor, and she heard his heavy sigh.

When he came back into view, he was pushing himself along on one hip, shoving Tom Riddle's diary ahead of him until he was right in front of her, blocking her view of the door. Tears began to trickle out of her frozen eyes as she watched him moving with all the grace and dignity of a drunk. His one leg was folded, and the other sprawled nearly to the door. The trousers had ridden up and she could see two inches of his pale leg sticking out above his dress socks. He'd also lost a shoe, she noted with meaningless empathy.

He sucked in several deep breaths before lifting his wand from the carpet. Blood flew from his mouth as he shouted, "_Espeto Patonun!_"

He sobbed with relief for both of them when the spell actually worked. His otter flew from his wand and raced toward the windows, and they watched the Patronus slither out through a crack in a pane and vanish.

Blood dripped onto his embroidered waistcoat as he fumbled in his pockets again, each movement hindered by erratic spasms and twitches. It seemed to take forever for him to find what he was looking for, but he did. When she saw the basilisk fang in his hand, the tears poured forth, and it took several heartbeats before she realized she was blinking furiously. Startled, she tried to move, but as yet, she was limited to her eyes.

His arm jerked up in the air, and she watched as he plunged the fang into the diary. The book emitted an earsplitting wail and began to gush black ink. He threw it away from him, repulsed by the evil that was released, and she tracked it as it skittered to a stop under a chair. There was a muffled shout through the walls, and Severus scrambled for his wand, jabbing it at the door, expectantly.

She felt her lips curl back in a snarl as her hand spasmed and sent her wand flying, but her other closed around the healing potions he'd given her to hold.

He let out a moan of pain and frustration that sent her into a panic as he began to convulse. She lashed commands at her body, demanding a response, but only managed to throw herself onto her face. Cursing up a storm in her head, she forced her neck to move, twisting so she could see. A low moan started in her gut and forced her clenched teeth apart as his wand slipped from his fingers. He flung himself backwards onto the floor, writhing in an uncontrollable fit.

The shouting from beyond the room grew louder and soon the muted strains of music from the ballroom stopped completely.

The Order of the Phoenix had arrived.

Hermione hissed, working her jaw loose and swallowing several times to regain control of her tongue, as her hand felt around on the carpet for her wand.

The doors to the library flew open as Alecto Carrow raced in. She threw up several wards and charms on the doors as she backed away in fear. Severus flailed, slapping his hand against the leg of the long table and she whirled, startled by the sound.

Hermione was ready. She'd pushed herself up on one arm while the other gripped her wand with a primal fury. The Death Eater never had a chance as Hermione screamed, "_Sectumsempra!_"

The tail end of her curse caught Alecto across the throat when she ducked, and she fell to the floor, gurgling out her last breath.

Hermione started crawling, dragging her still useless legs behind her, until she reached her Severus. She hit him with two Healing Charms, and repaired his torn mouth and broken nose as best she could. By the time Bellatrix threw open the door, she was hunched over his mildly quaking body with her hand on his throat, making sure he didn't choke on the potions she'd poured into him.

"Get away from him, you filth!" Bellatrix screamed, blasting Hermione into the air. She bounced off the wall and landed on a long table before sliding off and crumpling into a heap on the other side.

"How are you still alive? I thought Snape had betrayed us, but it was_ you!_ You called those blood traitors here! What magic is this?"

Dazed and desperate to catch her breath, she didn't bother to answer. She couldn't even shield herself as the table was blown apart. Splintered wood embedded into her leg from ankle to hip. She twisted around and lashed at Bellatrix with a Reducto, sending the woman crashing into the wall. Following it up with a volley of weaker spells, she forced the other woman to constantly deflect, as she tried to work her bleeding legs into position.

Hermione threw herself to the side as the two women flung their last curses.

Bella's Killing Curse missed, flying over Hermione's bloody hip with only inches to spare.

Hermione's Entrail-Expelling Curse didn't.

Bellatrix screamed, and Hermione closed her eyes as the Death Eater's belly split open.

Sobbing, Hermione dragged herself across the carpet to the nearest chair and leaned against it. Her leg was on fire from the table shards that dug into her with even the slightest movement. Outside the room, the fight was still raging. She could hear the screams and shouted curse, recognizing the voices of Dumbledore and Voldemort above the others. It sounded like a slaughter.

She knew she was useless in this condition, so she turned her wand on herself and cried out, "_Accio splinters!_ Bloody _hell!_"

She nearly fainted from the ensuing pain as the wood was torn from her skin.

"_Expelliarmus!_"

Hermione's wand flew from her hand, and she looked up to see Voldemort standing in the doorway in a towering rage. He snapped her wand and cast it away, a simple act that seemed to calm him. Warding the door with an absent flick, he stepped over Alecto and walked over to stare down at Bellatrix. His gaze flicked over to where Severus was quietly twitching before he finally looked at her.

"What have you done?" he asked in a gentle voice. "I saw you die." He gestured to the bodies on the floor. "And yet, here you are, having vanquished three of my Death Eaters, no less. You're unnatural."

He took several steps toward her, his wand aimed straight at her heart. "You hid things from me, didn't you? Oh, such strength you have, and all of it wasted. Everything—all those people giving their lives out there—all of it is futile. I will triumph in the end. For you see, like you, I cannot die. No one can harm me. Especially not an infant boy."

Hermione reached her hand under the chair and gave a little shove. "Guess again," she panted as the desecrated diary slid into view. "That was the last..."

Voldemort's eyes flew wide, and he let out a howl of rage. "_Who are you?"_

He stomped three steps closer looking like he was going to rip her apart with his bare hands, and then caught himself. "_No!_ It matters not! I don't care who you are because you're _nothing_. As for the Horcruxes, I shall simply make another. I can make a _thousand_. Your death will be but the first."

His face screwed up into a mask of rage as he cried, "I am Lord Voldemort! _I cannot die!_"

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

Hermione's eyes went round as the Dark Lord was engulfed in a flash of acid green fire. To her, his body seemed to collapse in slow motion, and as it crumpled, it revealed Severus on his knees behind him, his face distorted by blood and hate.

He gazed down at his dead lord and snarled, "You have to _mean it_."

The doors were blasted open, and he swung his wand up and around. She cried out as Severus, still on his knees and trembling uncontrollably, faced down James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black.

She lost her bruised wits and started screaming. "Get away from him! I'll _kill_ you if you touch him! So help me god, if it's the last thing I do, I will end your lives if you ever hurt him again!"

She didn't even realize she was standing until she tried to put weight on her injured leg. She stumbled over the Dark Lord's body and threw herself between her Severus and the bastard Marauders. "He's a hero!" she said as the tears started again. "He's my hero."

She felt Severus' head press against the back of her good leg and his trembling hand curl around her knee.

Sirius blew out a breath and lowered his wand, but it was James that spoke. "We know," he said in a gentle voice. "We just surprised each other, that's all." He scrubbed his hand through his hair, making it stand straight up. "Sirius saw Voldemort escape into this room, and we didn't know what to expect. We had trouble getting through the wards."

"What's going on out there?" Severus asked.

"It's over," said a new voice.

They turned as Dumbledore entered the room gripping the Elder Wand. He looked around at the wreckage and then down at the bodies on the floor. "Alastor and the others are sweeping the grounds for fugitives. For the moment, no one can Apparate, so we hope anyone fleeing won't get far." He looked at Severus and Hermione. "Unfortunately, that means there will be a wait before we can get the two of you to the infirmary. Do you need immediate assistance?"

"Fix her leg," Severus growled. "She's bleeding."

Remus let out an oath and lifted the hem of her torn and bloody gown. He hissed when he saw the damage and Hermione felt a wash of magic sooth the burn of injury.

"That should help, but you need more than that," he said, dropping her gown. "Has anyone got a Healing Potion?"

Severus snarled. "No. She made me drink them all. Idiot woman."

"Now, Severus," said Dumbledore with amused censure. "I'm sure Miss Granger had her priorities in order."

"I'll go and find some," Remus said, rushing out of the room.

Walking over to where Voldemort was sprawled face down, Dumbledore stared at his nemesis for a long moment. In a quiet, sad voice he said, "And thus it ends. So much fear. So much ignorance. What a broken life."

He turned to them and said, "You have performed a miracle, the two of you. We are all in your debt." Gazing around at the other bodies in the room, he added, "So much waste."

He turned to James and Sirius, and said, "Watch over these two. Don't let anything happen to them until we can get them to the infirmary. I don't need the added complication of some overzealous Auror trying to arrest the Heroes of the Wizarding World. I need to find the Minister and tell him it's over."

At those last words, Hermione began trembling. James placed an arm around her shoulders to support her as Sirius walked around them and murmured, "Can you stand, Snape?"

"No," he replied in a strained voice, swaying on his knees.

"Then let me help you lie back. We'll get you out of here soon."

Hermione turned as Severus replied, "Fuck off, Black." He flopped to the ground on his own, shoving himself backwards until he could lean against the wall and glare up at him defiantly.

Sirius looked at James with indignation. "Did you see that? I was _trying_, damn him. Bloody git."

James chuckled as he lowered Hermione down to sit next to her boyfriend. "Try, try again, Padfoot."

Walking over to the wall, Sirius drawled, "Oh dear, Bella… You've really let yourself go."

Hermione snorted and reached for Severus's hand. He clutched it and leaned against her, his eyes glazed with pain. His little display had hurt him, but only she was privileged to see his small remorse.

"Soon, love," she whispered. "We'll get you fixed up soon."

He nodded, bringing her hand to his lips, smearing it with drying blood. "Marry me," he whispered back.

Her heart swelled to bursting, and she gave him a dazzling smile as she replied, "No."

He scowled at her, but it lacked any conviction. "You have to. I saved your life."

Laughing, she shook her head. "Severus, we've only been dating for just over a week."

"It's been eleven days, and so what? How much more time do you need? After tonight, I'm hardly going to let you slip away. Do you even realize how incredible you are?"

"I was pretty amazing, wasn't I?

"You called the Dark Lord a son of a squint-eyed whore to his face. I'd adore you for that alone."

She laughed, despite the pain. As her adrenaline faded, her other injuries were beginning to make themselves known.

She sighed and squeezed his hand. "I already jumped into one relationship immediately after a war and mucked it all up. I'm not in a hurry to repeat the same mistake. I love you to pieces, yes, but we're just starting out. We have all sorts of issues to work through. Things we haven't even thought of yet. You know, there's a very real chance you might discover I'm sort of annoying. Lots of people do."

Gritting his teeth, he waited out another wave of trembling, before replying, "I already knew you were annoying. It wasn't much of a secret."

She let out a bubbling giggle that ended with, "Ow," and then leaned her head against his. "Whatever happened to 'Act in haste, repent at leisure'?"

He sighed. "Fine. I can see you're going to be stubborn about this. Expect to be asked again."

She turned her face and kissed his cheek. "I'm counting on it," she said.

They both turned, stiffening at the sound of running feet. Lily raced into the room, looking frantic and frightened and bolted straight into James' arms.

"Are you alright? I thought I saw you get hit by Malfoy, but I couldn't be sure! And then there were so many wounded, and I found a baby upstairs and I couldn't just leave it…"

He wrapped his arms around his wife and hugged her. "I'm fine, darling. See? Malfoy missed me and Padfoot took care of him."

"Thank god. I've been sick with worry."

"A baby?" said Sirius. "That would be Draco. Where's Narcissa?"

Lily's eyes went flat. "She's dead. She killed Emmeline Vance. I stunned her, but she fell down the stairs and broke her neck."

"Gods, he's an orphan then. Who's with him now?"

"Minerva."

Hermione's heart twisted painfully in her chest, unable to deal with the conflicted emotions. The idea of Draco growing up an orphan instead of Harry was a portentous reversal of fate. "Andromeda," she said. "Ask if Andromeda will take him."

Sirius nodded. "I was thinking the same thing. She has a warm heart and Tonks is a good man." He smirked and added, "And little Tonks is a holy terror. She needs a sibling."

Lily twisted around in her husband's arms, and it was plain from her expression that she hadn't realized anyone else was in the room. Her eyes widened when she saw Severus shivering next to Hermione.

"Severus! Good lord!" She pulled out her wand and rushed towards them. "Miss Granger, are you alright?"

"We're a little worse for wear," she replied. "It will be nice to get out of here. It's starting to smell."

Lily looked at the bodies sprawled around the room. She shuddered and looked away again quickly, holding her hand in front of her mouth. "Gods, Severus. You always did go for the most extreme curse first."

Hermione felt Severus stiffen under her hands.

"And you always did jump to the wrong conclusion first," he spat. He jerked his chin at Voldemort's body. "I killed that one. She killed the others while nearly incapacitated. Taking exception to her methods strikes me as… petty."

Lily's brows jumped up. "I didn't mean—"

James walked over and reached down, plucking at her sleeve. "Darling, why don't you go and find Pomfrey or help Remus find Healing Potions. These two need attention."

"Oh, yes. Right. I'll go do that," she said, sounding contrite and embarrassed. "I'm so glad the two of you are alright," she whispered before she left the room.

James hunkered down before them, resting his elbows on his knees. "Let it go, Snape. She babbles when she's scared. She meant nothing."

Hermione clutched her lover's hand to keep him still, replying, "And Severus lashes out when he's been attacked." She stared into James' eyes, demanding he understand where she was going with this.

James nodded several times as he sucked in a breath and held it. "So he does," he said in a quiet voice. "Look. For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I'm man enough to admit that I was wrong in the past."

Severus stared from James' face to the hand outstretched in friendship and back again several times before he said, "I don't like you, Potter. I don't think I ever will. However, I will agree to let go of our history, and I, too, apologize for any pain and suffering you might have incurred due to your arrogant stupidity."

Hermione winced at that ghastly act of mangled contrition and sent a pleading look at James to let it lie. To her relief, James actually laughed. "Shake my hand, you git. It's over. It's all over."

Severus sighed and lifted his hand. It was still trembling from all the after effects of the Crucio he'd endured. James took it gently and smiled. "That didn't kill you, did it?"

With a snort, Severus shook his hand and then waved him away with an imperious gesture. "Enough. It's over. Any more and I may vomit."

Sirius laughed and James spread his hands and shrugged. "Try, try again," he said softly as he stood.

Everyone turned to the doorway as Remus came in, rushing Madam Pomfrey along ahead of her. The school's nurse looked around and shook her head. "Mother preserve us," she said with a sigh. James stepped aside as she hurried over carrying her bag full of potions. "Severus! Oh, my dear boy, I thought I'd seen the last of you in my ward ages ago." She looked over her shoulder and glared at the Marauders.

"It wasn't us!" blurted Sirius.

"So you say," Severus snarled.

Pomfrey rolled her eyes and said, "Let's get the two of you fixed enough to move back to Hogwarts, where I can do a proper job of it. It's going to be a bit crowded, I'm afraid."

:

* * *

:

I split this chapter, which brings our official tally to twenty chapters. *nods*


	19. Not So Happily Ever After

**AN:** A little extra, for being so kind and generous with your enthusiasm and reviews, and to make up for lost sleep and peace of mind.

:

Hermione looked around the infirmary and sighed. She sat back against the pillows with her arms crossed over her chest and listened to the snores of the other patients. Pomfrey hadn't been exaggerating. Many in the Order had been hurt, and the woman had had her hands full, running about with the different remedies for the myriad curses, jinxes, and hexes that had been used in the battle.

As far as her own injuries, Hermione wasn't in bad shape at all. The worst was the headache leftover from whatever spell Severus had zapped her with. Second most awful was the bruised back from slamming into the bookshelves. She twitched the blankets aside and lifted her hospital robes, inspecting her leg. Only a few of the many cuts would scar, so would the twin Crucio blasts on her chest and stomach. She wasn't that bothered by them. All things considered, she'd survived two battles to the death with Voldemort and had walked away from both. It could have been much worse than simply needing to avoid bikinis for the rest of her life. She frowned and covered herself back up. She _was _a little put out that she couldn't even hide her scars until she replaced her wand.

With a sigh, she indulged in an overdue bit of sulking. The Dark Lord had plucked her wand from her hand as if she'd been a firstie. It had been a stupid mistake to let herself become distracted by her injuries. She'd be dead if it wasn't for the madman's desperate need to make speeches.

"What's wrong?"

Hermione turned to the next bed and saw Severus looking at her with concern.

"I thought you were asleep," she whispered.

He gave her a lethargic smile. "I was until you started huffing. What's the matter?"

She flopped her hands down on the blankets. "Did you know that Voldemort defeated me with the same spell Harry used to kill him in my time? I find the irony less than amusing." She stared up at the ceiling and huffed again. "I'm crap without a wand. I can't even _call_ a wand without a wand." Folding her arms across her chest again, she said, "I own two thousand shares of Apple, and I can't even afford to buy a bloody wand. So much for my brilliant financial planning."

She heard Severus begin to chuckle and let out a quiet little growl. This made him chuckle even more.

"A powerful witch doesn't need a wand," he said.

"Yes, well, thank you for your assessment of my prowess, since I obviously _do_ need one."

"Stop being petulant," he said quietly. "I've seen your charm work, and I saw the aftermath of your fight with both Alecto and Bellatrix. You're one of the most frighteningly powerful witches I've ever encountered. You do realize an Entrail-Expelling Curse isn't actually supposed to work that way, don't you?"

She wrinkled her nose. "That was a bit unexpected…"

"That's because you invented a new curse, which proves my point. A witch like you doesn't need a wand."

He sat up and fluffed up the pillows behind him, and she grinned as she recognized his teacher persona.

"A wand is a focus, an inanimate extension of our will. Its nature helps us tap into our deeper resources. However, if our abilities _match_ our will, then we can simply extend our magic and focus on our desire."

He stretched out his hand and wandlessly, wordlessly _Accioed_ her bed.

She had to stifle a whoop of delight as it soundlessly slid across the floor and softly banged up next to his. He reached out and pulled her under his blankets. "See? Just focus your will on your desires…"

She sighed and burrowed into his arms, kissing his neck. "You have a way of making everything seem so simple."

"I told you I'm a simple man."

She rolled her eyes and snuggled into his embrace. A subtle tremor rippled through his thin bones and she asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Better. I'll be fine by morning. Your spells and the potions you gave me had already done a lot to alleviate the worst."

His brow wrinkled as he scrunched up his face. "I have to ask, why the hell didn't you take one of them? You would have been able to move sooner if you had. That's why I gave you two. It never occurred to me you'd have been so stupid as to give me both."

She snorted. "I panicked. I never saw anyone go through six rounds of Crucio before. Frank and Alice Longbottom were driven mad by prolonged exposure, and I didn't know _what_ it would do it you."

She twisted in his arms. "Your turn… What the hell did you hit me with? I thought my brain was going to explode."

He squeezed her tight and murmured. "Sorry. I didn't really think I'd have to use it. After you fell asleep last night, I spent hours going over possible scenarios in my head. I know I told you it would be fine, but Alecto was always addicted to making other people suffer. I knew she'd do something. I tried to plan out all the variables. Faking your death seemed like a far-fetched bit of paranoia at the time, but paranoia has always served me well."

"You don't hear me complaining."

"Not yet, anyway. I'm desperate for you to marry me before you realize how much of a paranoid pain in the arse I am."

She barked a laugh, and he snorted and shushed her, looking around at the other sleeping patients.

She bit her lip until her giggles were under control. After several deep breaths, she whispered, "Severus, you've been a pain in the arse from the start, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

He chuckled and hugged her tight. "Good, because I might be able to change from a bastard to a hero, but I suspect I will always be a pain in the arse."

"And I will always be annoying," she said with a grin.

"See? We're well suited. You should marry me."

"Actually, that makes us sound rather spectacularly _un_suited, and will you _please_ stop asking me? You've made me say no three times now, and I'm starting to worry you might do something stupid like give up."

He grinned at her and kissed the top of her head. "Never."

Settling her head against his shoulder, she said, "So tell me how you faked my death."

"It was the earrings…"

"I gathered that much."

"I hexed them with a delayed spell of my own invention that scrambles a person's synapses. It reduced your heart rate and perspiration to nominal levels, as well as kept you paralyzed until they were removed."

"It certainly did that. It also blocked the influence of the Horcrux and stopped the aftereffects of the Crucio."

"An unplanned benefit then," he said in a grave tone.

"So did you link it to just the Killing Curse?"

He nodded. "I knew I my Avada was crap, so as long as I was the one to do it, you'd be fine. If someone else did, then it wouldn't matter."

She smirked. "It's not crap anymore. You killed the worst Dark Wizard in history and just in the nick of time."

He didn't smile. Instead, he rolled until he had curled himself around her. "That was the worst moment of my life," he whispered. "It took so long for the Healing Potions to work. It felt like my body was betraying me. I had to fight so hard to get it to do what I wanted. I thought he would kill you before I even found my bloody wand."

He swallowed hard and said, "I'm so sorry. I promised to keep you safe, and I failed." She hugged him, as he struggled not to cry.

"You didn't fail. You just didn't specify when I would be safe. He's dead because you killed him. I'm safe from him forever."

He lifted up until he was looking down into her eyes. "Hermione, I'm free now. You've freed me from all of the mistakes of my past. I want nothing more in life than to spend it making you happy."

She felt the sting of tears, and as one escaped he rubbed it away with his nose. "You do make me happy," she said. "You make me ridiculously happy." She kissed the tip of his nose. "I love you more than anyone in the world. More than even I can put into words."

Leaning his head down to rest against hers, he whispered, "I'll never get tired of hearing that."

He kissed her gently, and as she held him, she felt another small tremor rattle through his frame. She broke the kiss, and he sighed.

"I'm done in," he said. "Let's sleep. Close your eyes and stop huffing. I'll buy you a new wand tomorrow."

She kissed his wonderful nose and whispered, "I suppose I'll let you."

:

HR

:

It started with the other Order members…

It turned out that a few of the Death Eaters had escaped, and Severus had gone with Moody to try and figure out who was unaccounted for and where they would be hiding. As yet, few people knew Severus had played double agent and so his safety was an issue. The Headmaster had sent James, Remus, and Sirius to keep him safe.

Hermione had elected to stay behind and help Madam Pomfrey with those few Order members who hadn't been released that morning. Dorcas Meadows had lost a leg, and Gideon Prewitt was still unresponsive. He'd been found that way next to his dead brother. Frank Longbottom had been burned badly, but the nurse seemed to think his new skin would be fine by the evening. Alice had had all the bones in one leg broken, so she was still hobbling around with a cane.

It was Alice that started it, and at the time, it had been an innocuous and amusing conversation.

"Tell me about my boy," she said. "The one from your time."

"Neville? Well, let's see what would still apply… His magic was slow to develop, so don't let his uncles throw him out of any windows. He didn't much like that at all. He's a bit shy and definitely clumsy for quite a long time, but he grows out of that eventually. He grows up to be quite handsome and brave with a real knack for plants."

"Really? My sister has a green thumb. I should have her buy him a plant. It could be something for them to do together."

Hermione laughed and said, "That sounds like a wonderful idea."

She snickered and replied, "Actually, I should probably wait. At this point, he'd probably just try to eat it. He shoves everything in his gob."

That comment spoiled the fun for Hermione, but she kept her smile in place. Talking about her friend Neville versus this new, undefined Neville had been fine. Being reminded that the person they were discussing was at this moment a drooling infant had jolted her back to the reality of her situation. Everything and everyone she'd known was gone, irrevocably changed forever.

Her conversation with Lily was similar. The woman had showed up to check on Draco and sought out Hermione to apologize for her comments after the battle. Apparently, her husband had made it plain that she needed to make peace with Severus if the hatchet were to be properly buried. She'd arrived after they men had left, and so did her best by Hermione instead.

She put a real effort to being thoughtful and apologetic, and Hermione decided she hadn't ever been intentionally nasty, just a bit blind to the repercussions of her own actions. It had been obvious when she'd run into the drawing room after the battle that she'd thought of nothing but her husband, and her empathy for Draco went far in blunting Hermione's sharper opinions.

After the two women had made peace, the questions had begun. However, Lily's questions about Harry weren't specific to who he would be when he grew up, but what he'd had to deal with before he'd even reached Hogwarts. It was as if she needed to hear every gory detail to punish herself for failing, when she hadn't in this life.

"But did Petunia _ever_ do right by him?"

Hermione shrugged. "Not that I'm aware of, but his cousin Dudley did eventually."

Lily swiped at her tears and shook her head. "He was so alone," she whispered. Looking up, she gave Hermione a wobbly smile. "Until you came along."

Hermione patted her clenched hand. "Not just me, he had other friends as well. Like Neville." She made a conscious choice not to list them all, not even Ron. This future had its own agenda, and she didn't want to influence how it played out. Everything she'd known was gone, erased. She felt there was no merit in trying to force things into a shape she was comfortable with. She was hardly going to be Harry's best friend now, and she found herself reluctant to even entertain the notion of going to see him as a drooling baby. It was best to just let it go.

"Just remember this," she said. "In spite of, or maybe because of, everything Harry went through, he came through it with a sense of decency and honor, and a humility that served not just him, but everyone. He's a good person, and your love literally saved his life over and over."

Lily began to cry again. "Thank you," she said. "For everything. Severus is so very lucky to have you."

Hermione smiled and replied, "I'm pretty sure I'm the lucky one."

Lily gave her a genuine smile that looked so much like Harry's it hurt. Hermione made her excuses and headed off to find something to eat in the Great Hall. As the aftermath of the battle began to set in, she was beginning to realize that for her own peace of mind, she might be better off going to Amsterdam after all. She wondered how difficult it would be to talk Severus into coming with her.

The next one to approach her was Amos Diggory, who'd arrived with the Minister as part of his entourage. They'd exchanged friendly greetings as they'd tucked into their meals, but he'd wasted little time in getting to the point of why he'd sought her out. "So," he said, tapping his finger against his nose, "I've heard it whispered that you're actually from the future."

She blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"Oh, no need to be coy. I'm sworn to the secret. But that doesn't mean we can't have a little fun. So, tell me the future, Miss Granger. What becomes of my Cedric?"

Hermione had nearly choked on her mutton pie. She reached for her glass of water and coughed. "Cedric? I-I didn't really know him. He was older than me, but he was very popular. He was… kind and honest, and brave, and true." _Right to the very end_, she added, finishing Dumbledore's eulogy in her head.

"Ah, that's my boy. He's the apple of my eye. But can you not give me just a little more? What were his interests? What sort of job did he take after he graduated?"

Hermione's eyes widened as she struggled to figure out what to say. If she lied, the man would raise his son believing a lie. If she told him the truth, the man might overreact and smother the boy. "Honestly, we ran in different circles. I don't know, I'm sorry." She swiped at her mouth with her napkin and stood up from the table. "I just remembered something I have to do, forgive me. It was nice to meet you."

She didn't wait for a response before she hurried away. She hadn't reached the door before Marlene McKinnon stopped her.

"Hermione! May I call you Hermione? Have you got a minute?"

"Um, sure, what can I do for you?"

The young woman looked around before leaning in. "I was wondering, now that we've won and all… Well, I was just wondering if you happen to know if Sirius and I ended up together. You know, in the future…"

Hermione blinked. "If you recall, I told you that Sirius spent twelve years in jail before dying a year after he'd escaped. So the answer would be, 'No.'"

"Yes, but that's all changed now. I was sort of wondering if he'd ever mentioned me. You know, who was he pining away for in Azkaban?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think the dementors let you think about your lost love in Azkaban, Marlene. I'm sorry."

She started to walk away but Marlene grabbed her arm. "Hang on. No need to rush off. Let me ask you another question then. Who _did_ I marry?"

Hermione gently pulled her arm away. "I'm sorry, but in my future… you were dead." Shaking her head she added, "Your whole family had been killed…"

The other woman's eyes went wide and Hermione fled, feeling like she'd punched the other woman in the gut for no reason.

Three more people stopped her to ask about the future before she'd even made it to the Entrance Hall. She was hurrying away from Amelia Bones with a grimace of apology when the front doors of the castle were flung open. She turned as the sound of shouting filled the hall. The first person she saw was Severus, looking angry and distraught. James was pushing at him, and Remus and Sirius were shouting at the crowd shoving its way through the doors behind them. She reached for her wand and then cursed when she realized it was broken.

"No comment!" James bellowed. "Leave him be!"

"We have a right to know!" shouted a woman with light-blonde hair and a heavy jaw. "Our readers have a right to have their questions answered! How old were you when you became a Death Eater!"

"Leave off!" yelled Remus.

Hermione's eyes flew wide when she realized what was happening. Severus saw her and made a break for her, grabbing her hand as he turned toward the stairs to the dungeon. It was too late; their retreat had been cut off.

"Is that Miss Granger?" shouted another reporter. "Is it true she's an oracle? Miss Granger, how old were you when you experienced your first vision?"

"_What?_" Hermione stared at Severus in shock as the reporters cut loose with their questions. He pulled her back against the wall, and Remus, James and Sirius formed a guard in front of them with their wands out.

"How does it feel to be the Heroes of the Wizarding world?"

"Miss Granger, what about these unconfirmed reports that you're from the future?"

"Are the two of you going to get married? If you know the future, how many children will you have?"

"Is it true you still carry the Dark Mark?"

"Who wins the Quidditch World Cup this year?"

James looked over his shoulder at Hermione. "They found us at the gates. It was everything we could do to keep Snape from hexing them."

Sirius snarled, "I say we let him. I'm about to throw a few hexes myself. They're bloody relentless."

"James," Remus said, "You're the fastest. Run for the Headmaster."

"Right."

The questions continued on.

"Were you lovers in the future as well? Wouldn't you have been her teacher then?"

"What will you do with the money from your Order of Merlin? Will you donate it to the orphans and widows fund?"

"Give us a kiss for the front page!"

"Were you a Death Eater while you were in charge of our innocent students?"

"Look this way and smile, please."

"Professor Snape, is it true that as a Death Eater you raped and killed innocent Muggles?"

"_I never did!_" cried Severus, sounding more frightened than angry.

"_I know you!_" Hermione screeched at that last reporter. "You're that bloody Rita Skeeter!"

The woman preened. "Guilty as charged,' she said with a smirk.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at her as the other reporters fell silent.

"For the record," she hissed, "this man killed Voldemort by himself. He's a _hero_ and so are these men here and a lot of others as well." She looked around, making sure she had everyone's attention. "Yes, I'm from the future, but that future is gone now. I can't tell you anything about what will happen in this one. However, I can tell you one thing that was true in my time, and I know for a fact that it's true now. You want a scoop? Well, _that_ woman," she jabbed her finger at Rita Skeeter, "is an unregistered Animagus!"

Skeeter shrieked out a denial as the pack of hounds turned on their own with a vengeance.

Hermione whirled around and faced the wall, unsure if it would work without her wand. Leaning her forehead against the stones, she whispered, "Get us out of here!"

The door appeared instantly, and after a rippled murmur of surprise, the questions began again and grew even louder.

Hermione grabbed the handle, and Severus nearly shoved her through the door, banging it shut behind them.

:

HR

:

Next up: The End.

(but not today)


	20. The Unwritten Future Awaits

**AN:** And so it ends…

* * *

The room was quiet, but for the sound of their ragged breathing and the crackling of the fire. Hermione let go of Severus' hand as she stared around her in surprise. Everything seemed the same as it had been the day she'd fled here after her talk with Dumbledore. The comfy chair by the fire with its pillow shaped just right to press against a belly for a good cry and the stone plinth in the corner with the bust of a fallen hero were exactly the same. Even the small table was there, with its silver serving tray, its empty glass of butterbeer, and a cracked, red-plastic flower pot.

Severus walked over to the marble bust and stared at it in silence. Finally, he reached a hand out and traced a finger down the deep crease between its eyes. "How long I must have been Occluding for this to have happened," he said softly. He shook his head. "I look so lonely."

She walked over and took his hand. "You were," she said quietly. "It was a terrible life."

He turned to her, and she saw the firelight flickering in eyes that were moist from unshed tears. "It's gone now. You saved me from that."

As if those words were a key, the black marble bust and its plinth disappeared without a sound.

Hermione let out a small sob and smiled, happy his life was better, but mourning that last connection to her old life. Squeezing his hand, she said, "You saved me as well. Not just from your Dark Lord, but from myself. I was so depressed. Nothing in my life had any meaning, until you came along. Aside from this room, you gave me my first genuine smile in ages."

He led her over to the chair, which stretched into a small sofa as they approached. "It was the knickers, wasn't it. You're never going to let me forget that, are you?"

She laughed. "Nope. Never."

He let her sit first and then followed her down, dropping his arm around her and looking at the door. "Should we have let them in with us?" He grimaced and turned to her. "I meant Black and Lupin, not those disgusting parasites."

"Why, Severus Snape… Am I detecting concern for the Marauders?"

Instead of smiling, he looked away, staring into the fire. "They helped me," he said in a whisper.

"That was what they were told to do…" she replied, unsure of her words.

He shook his head. "I really did almost hex them. That woman kept after me about being a Death Eater. Asking me if I'd ever participated in human sacrifice, if I'd ever harmed a child…" He closed his eyes. "I wanted to blast her in the face. I actually raised my wand, but Lupin slapped it down. He said… he said, 'You're a better man than that,' and then they helped me get away." He opened his eyes and looked at her in anguish. "But I'm not," he said. "I wouldn't have thought to do the same for them."

Hermione stroked his cheek and said, "But you'll think of it now, won't you? You're Slytherin, Severus. For you, loyalty isn't easily given. It has to be earned. They had almost ten years of torment to overcome to earn yours. However, they're Gryffindor, brash and stupid enough to think such a thing is a challenge to rise up to and brave enough to try. It sounds as if they earned it today more than last night."

He gave her a small smile. "You make it sound like my loyalty is some great thing to be desired."

She tilted her head to the side and said, "Oh, Severus. Don't you realize it is? Gods, it is. You're a powerful and sometimes terrifying man. For the rest of us being on your good side feels like we're finally safe. Like we've been blessed somehow."

He snorted and rolled his eyes. His gaze shifted down to his left arm, and he pulled the other from around her and tugged up the sleeve. They stared in silence at his Dark Mark. It was faded now, just a trace of pale, grayish-blue instead of the writhing, pulsating black it had been.

"This is going to define me, Hermione. Those vultures out there aren't going to tell the world I'm a hero, they'll tell the world I ate babies."

He looked at her and her heart broke to see the tears run down his cheeks. "I never did," he whispered. "I never hurt anyone. Just fiddled with their minds a bit, I swear."

"I know. I know that. We can't begin to care what they think, Severus, or it will tear us apart."

He shook his head. "I'll drag you down with me…"

She pulled at his arm until he wrapped it around her. "It's not just you… They're after me as well. It started with little questions, asking me to tell them about their children, then they wanted me to tell them their future like I was Sybil bloody Trelawney. I'm looking at twenty god damned years of questions about the future and probably a life time of questions about the past after that. No one will ever leave me alone about it. I can't bear the idea of facing that without you."

He tightened his hold on her and crushed her to her chest. "Then we'll face it together," he said. "Always together."

She nodded. "Let nothing fit between us."

He leaned his head down and kissed her and they both let out the softest of sighs. All the stress and strain and terror and turmoil of the last twenty-four hours seemed to fade. As he deepened the kiss, she felt the weight of the world slip away, leaving only the warm welcome weight of his body as he tilted her back down on the sofa. They took their time, needing to renew their bond far more than they needed release. He placed gentle, reverent kisses down her chest as he unbuttoned her robes, and then stretched his neck, exposing it to her with unconscious symbolism as she worked apart the knot on his cravat. They undressed each other slowly and completely, reverently touching and kissing the new scars they carried. When he slipped inside of her, she felt a need to cry from the joy, and so she did.

"I love you," he whispered. "Oh, gods, I love you."

She answered with kisses as he buried himself in her with aching sweetness. Even as their pleasure spiraled in intensity, neither of them felt the need to leap for the edge. Instead they prolonged it, stopping to breathe each other's breath while staring in each other's eyes as if to merge each other's souls with their kisses. When he finally emptied himself inside of her with a soft gasp and a shudder, she felt as if he'd poured his very being into her, and she'd taken it up and wrapped it to keep safe by her heart.

He dropped down next to her curling himself around her and planting lazy kisses on her shoulder as they caught their breath.

"Is it disturbing that neither of us realized when your friend turned this into a bed?" he asked.

She chuckled and shifted until he was spooned behind her. "Not to me," she said. "It just means that the world could have ended in that perfect moment in time and neither of us would have cared."

"It was perfect. The world _is_ perfect when I have you in my arms. It's all the other bloody moments of the day that are flawed and tedious."

She kissed his forearm and said, "You realize you don't have to teach dunderheads any more, don't you?"

"You realize they won't _let _me, don't you?" he drawled.

She sighed. It seemed like they were right back where they'd started when they'd escaped into this room. "You could come and make potions with me."

"Do you think your employer would let me?"

She shrugged, thinking the answer was probably no.

"Where is the happily ever after?" he asked. "Isn't that in the rules? Why is victory so terrible?"

She shook her head. "I don't know." Remembering what Harry had had to live through in her last life, she repeated herself. "I honestly don't know. The world is a strange place."

He sighed and held her as their sweat dried and the fire crackled. "We'll just hide from it for a little while longer then, yeah?"

"Absolutely." She closed her eyes and settled her head comfortably on his bicep. "Let's stay here for twenty years."

"If only we could," he said with a snort. "Then maybe they'd forget all about us."

She heard the rustling of paper and felt him go still.

"What's this?" he said, gently pulling his arm out from under her head as he sat up. His voice grew alarmed as he said, "Hermione, have you read this?"

She sat up against what had been the armrest and was now a cushy headboard and glanced at the clipping he was holding.

_**Wizarding World Mourns Once Again**_

_The Wizarding World is still reeling from the shocking death of one of its greatest heroines…_

She wrinkled her nose. "Yeah. My friend here showed me that during my private pity party." She gestured to the room. "This was the room it gave me when I needed a refuge. It was exactly the same when we walked in as when I left." She reached behind her and picked up the cup that had held her butterbeer, sloshing the dregs around. "This even has a little foam left in it, like I'd only stepped out for a moment."

He grunted at that, still reading the article. When he was done, he looked up. "You'd have died if you hadn't come here," he whispered.

"So it seems. I don't understand how it would have known that. I tried working out the calculations, but there are just too many variables."

He shook his head. "I don't care how it knew it. I'm just grateful that it did."

She smiled and leaned over to kiss his cheek. "Me too. I'm grateful for everything. Maybe _this_ is our happily ever after. We just need to escape to this room once in a while when the stress gets to be too much."

He smirked at that, but his eyes glittered with pleasure. "I like that idea." He sighed and reached to drop the clipping back on the table. "However, I think it's time our happily ever after came to an end. I'm sure the headmaster has cleared the castle of pests, and I have to give him my report. I've been too busy to tell him everything that happened last night, and I'm sure Black and Potter probably left a few details out about how things went today."

"Did you catch any of the missing Death Eaters?"

He nodded. "There were only three, Travers, Avery, and Gibbons. I knew where they would hide so it wasn't much of a goose chase. All the rest are either dead or rotting in the bowels of the Ministry awaiting trial."

"Then it's really over."

"It is."

"We're done."

"We are."

"And we should leave here and go tidy up the loose ends."

He sighed. "We should."

She slumped against him and said, "I don't want to."

He wrapped his arms around her and admitted, "Neither do I."

She worried at her lip before twisting her head around to look at him. "What if we snuck away?"

"To where?"

"Anywhere."

"We won't get far, we're broke. Although I did hear someone say something about an Order of Merlin…"

"Which we'd have to show our faces in public to collect."

"An obvious flaw."

She huffed and leaned over the edge of the bed to fish her knickers out of the pile of clothes. "Fine. But if there _is _any reward money, we're leaving."

"A sound idea, but we still haven't decided where we're going."

She found his pants and tossed then to him. "I still haven't been to Amsterdam…"

"And you never will if I have my way. Amsterdam was almost very bad for your health. It's tempting fate."

"You pick then," she said, tossing him his trousers.

He got up off the bed and shoved his legs into them. "I don't care if we end up in Croyden, as long as it's somewhere no one recognizes us."

Her laugh faded away when she looked up to see him staring beyond her with a look of alarm on his face. "Wasn't that red before?" he asked in a quiet voice.

She followed his gaze to the end table and saw the cracked, plastic flowerpot.

It was green.

She reached for it but it faded away before she touched it. Blinking, she looked around the room and asked, "What does that mean?"

As if in reply, the end table itself disappeared. They exchanged a startled look and then began to dress in a hurry. As they grabbed at their clothes, the rug vanished, then two of the three sconces on the wall.

"Do you get the feeling we're being handed our hats and shown the door?" he asked as he threw on his robes.

"Just a tad," she drawled stamping her foot into a shoe. As soon as she stood up, the bed vanished. "Oi!" she cried. "Not so fast!"

"Unless there's a reason it's trying to rush us. Perhaps we need to hurry up."

She looked at him with worry. "Good point."

The fire guttered out and vanished, leaving a plain, nondescript wall. The small room was now lit only by the candle in the sconce by the door. A candle which was burning down at a phenomenal pace.

"Let's go,' he said, shoving his cravat into his pocket and grabbing her hand. "That's a countdown if I've ever seen one. Dumbledore must need us."

She grabbed her other shoe and ran toward the door. Severus threw it open and pulled her through into the Entrance Hall, catching her when she stumbled. They both turned in time to see the door vanish.

Hermione reached out and touched the wall. "I hope it's alright."

Severus nudged her and murmured, "I hope _he's_ alright."

She turned and saw a student, a first-year by the size of him, sitting upright in a chair against the wall. He was staring at them in mute shock, still as a statue.

"Hello, who are you?" Hermione asked as she leaned over to put her other shoe on.

"Snape," the boy whispered.

"The hell you are," Severus replied, staring down his nose at the child. "What are you doing here? You're not a student. I've never seen you before in my life."

"Snape!" the boy shouted jumping up from the chair.

"You will address me by my proper title, or I'll see you in _detention_."

"Snape! It's Snape!" The boy turned and ran toward the Great Hall, screaming 'Snape' the entire way. A moment later, a streak of silver shot out into the Entrance Hall and zipped under the front doors of the castle.

Severus scowled, his brow furrowed in a terrifying frown. "You see? This is what we're going to have to deal with. Come on. Let's go see the Headmaster. Maybe we can find out more about this reward and get the fuck out of the Wizarding World." He grabbed her hand and started up the stairs toward the first floor with Hermione hurrying along behind him.

"Stop!" a woman cried. They both turned, alarmed, to see a middle-aged witch standing in the doorway of the Great Hall with a small handful of students crowded up behind her. "Please," she said, walking towards them with her hands outstretched.

They started back down the stairs, confused. Hermione was sure she'd never seen the woman before, but when they reached the bottom of the stairs, Severus apparently had. He pulled out his wand and jumped in front of Hermione.

"What the devil is going on here? What the hell _happened_ to you?"

Hermione peeked around him to see the woman blush and pat at her hair self-consciously. "What happened to me was something that obviously didn't happen to you." She looked at him, and Hermione frowned at the way her eyes seemed to drink in his face.

Her eyes.

Oh gods…

Hermione's hair stood up as she started to see past the motherly haircut and the slight lines on her face, the saggier breasts and slightly wider hips. Lily Potter looked good… for her age.

She stepped around Severus but he kept his arm in front of her protectively. Lily smiled at her with her green eyes and stared at her the same way she'd looked at him a moment before.

"Hello, Hermione. It's good to see you after all this time."

Hermione blew out a breath and gently pushed Severus' arm out of the way. "How long has it been?"

Lily smiled wider, seeing that Hermione was catching on. "Twenty years."

"What are you on about?" Severus snapped. "We only hid in there for an hour at the most."

Lily seemed to be on the verge of crying and laughing at the same time as she shook her head. "No. You've been gone for twenty years to the day." She turned and gestured to the Great Hall. "Won't you come sit? I'll explain."

Severus looked at Hermione with suspicion and confusion all over his face. He raised his eyebrows as if asking her to decide.

"Yes, please," she said. "We'd love to."

Lily smiled and turned, laughing at the cluster of students standing in the hall staring wide-eyed at them. "These are the students that are staying over for the holidays. You have to forgive them. You two are legends. The students have been taking turns sitting in that chair on New Year's Day for twenty years." She smirked and looked back over her shoulder. "They call themselves _The Order of the Vigil_."

"If we're both heroes,' drawled Snape, "then why was this dunderhead only screaming my name?"

Lily laughed again. "Well, you both have your fans. They tend to be split down the line between boys and girls as to which of you was more important to the cause. Hermione, for coming back in time to save our world, or you, for risking your neck playing spy for months and then finally killing Voldemort in single combat."

Hermione snickered as Severus rolled his eyes. "What bloody single combat? I shot him in the back while he was attempting to bore Hermione to death with speeches."

Lily burst out laughing. "Oh, dear gods, did you?"

"Why would I lie?"

Hermione laughed harder at the shocked look on the boys' faces and the smug looks on the girls'."

She leaned down to the one who sent up the alarm and whispered, "_After_ he'd suffered through six rounds of Crucio and been left mostly dead. He was amazing." The boy's face split into a grin, and he shot the closest girl a smirk.

"Stop it," hissed Severus. "They're already half mad. _Look_ at them! You can see it swirling in their eyes."

Hermione snickered again and followed Lily into the Great Hall.

"It's your own fault in a way," Lily said. "Neither of you told anyone exactly what happened in that room that night. I fear the rumor and supposition has become a sort of national hobby."

"We weren't given the chance," he spat. "It's all well and good for you to say 'that night' in a pretentious tone, but we were just on our way to Dumbledore to explain what happened _last_ night."

Lily's face grew sad. "Yes, that's what I suspected. That's why I stopped you."

Severus and Hermione exchanged a worried look. "Why?" she asked, fearing the answer.

Lily sighed and sat down at the Gryffindor table, gesturing for them to join her. The students clustered around at a respectful distance. "Albus died in his sleep last year. He'd retired about six months before that. He never told anyone he was sick."

Severus frowned. "That bastard always liked his secrets," he said in a quiet voice.

"So he did. A lot of them came out after his death. He'd left behind a memoire."

"Grindelwald," Hermione whispered.

Lily's eyes widened. "You knew?"

"Yeah. I did." She shrugged. "I guess no one's perfect. Who has his wand?"

Severus looked at her with a frown.

"He broke it," Lily replied. "It was found next to his bed in two pieces."

"Good."

"Why is that relevant?" Severus asked.

"I'll explain later," Hermione said.

Severus growled. "Someone needs to explain something soon. Let's start with why you're here. Did you know we would come through today?"

Lily shook her head. "No. We weren't even sure if you were still in the room to tell you the truth. No one's been able to get in in all this time. Albus tried everything, but the door wouldn't open, nor would it go away. It's been there in the Entrance Hall all this time." She ran a hand through her short hair. "As for why I'm here, that would be because I work here." She smirked. "Someone had to, you see, our previous Potions master disappeared without giving notice."

Snape smirked and folded his arms across his chest. "How much time did you waste trying to update the syllabus?"

Lily flung up her hands, "Oh my gods! Do you know how many Galleons-worth of ingredients I wasted in that first year?"

Severus chuckled low in his chest. "Intimately."

"_Snape!_"

Severus bolted up, wand out, as they all turned to the doorway.

"I should have warned you I called them," Lily whispered. "But I knew how much it would mean to them to be here."

Three men stood there and it took Hermione no time at all to recognize Remus and Sirius. They looked nearly the same as in her time, just… happier. James looked different with his thinning hair and paunchy belly, but the glasses and the way he carried himself were a dead giveaway.

"Look at you, you lucky bastard," he said. "You haven't aged a day!"

Severus was tense as they walked over to him with smiles and outstretched hands. It seemed they'd had twenty years to decide they were all jolly good friends. Hermione nudged him, and he gave them a wince of a smile as he shook their hands. She got a warm hug from James, but Remus and Sirius were more restrained.

"So tell us," said Sirius as they sat down around them, "Where did you go? Where have you been for twenty years?"

Severus shrugged. "It's only been an hour for us. We just sat in that room until we figured they'd all gone away. What happened after we hid?"

James whistled and scrubbed his hand through his thinning hair. The result wasn't flattering. "I returned with Albus and Alastor and they seized control of the situation. It turns out it was the Minister that leaked the story to that woman…" he turned to Remus, "What was her name?"

"Skeeter," he replied. "Rita Skeeter."

"Yeah, that's it. Moody used a spell to force her into her Animagus form. That was a bit dodgy, Sirius was almost caught in it. Anyway, he arrested her on the spot, and Albus made a magnificent speech to the remaining reporters. Then they all fucked off."

"James!" Lily huffed.

He looked around at the students and mumbled, "Sorry."

Sirius took up the tale. "Albus tried to enter the room to tell you it was safe to come out, but he couldn't get in. No one could. Moody even tried to blast the door open, but nothing doing. You two were just… gone."

James nodded. "You've been gone ever since. There was a motion or two in the Wizengamot to have you declared dead, but it was always shouted down in the press."

"We saved your things," Remus said. "All of your belongings have been packed up and stored here." He pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket and slid it across the table to Severus. Hermione leaned over and read, '_Severus Snape and Hermione Granger live at Spinners End, Manchester_.'

"I hope you don't mind," he added. "But we were sure you'd come back, and I figured you'd need a place to live."

"I packed up your flat," Lily said to her. "It's all there in marked boxes."

"So you're my Secret Keeper?" Severus asked with a raised eyebrow.

Remus flushed. "Yes, in fact, I am. But you could change that if you wanted. Now that you're back."

Severus looked down at the paper and shook his head, stuffing the slip into a pocket. "No," he said. "This is fine."

"Tell us," Sirius said. "After twenty years we want to finally know, what _did_ happen that night? Even those Death Eaters in Azkaban want to know. It's all a mystery."

Hermione bit her lip and looked at Severus, but he just flicked his hand to her, deflecting the chance to be the one to tell.

She sighed. "Here's the short version," she said.

Between them the retold the tale, each of them adding bits to the other's narrative. Sirius turned green when they got to the part where she was suspected of having an affair with him behind Severus' back.

The others all stared at him as if he'd only just done it, and he looked like he wanted to vomit. "I'm so sorry," he said. "I knew I'd mucked up when I realized who was there, but I had no idea I'd screwed up so badly." He dropped his head to the floor. "The irony is, finding out how badly I mucked up in her other life was why I wanted to apologize to begin with…"

It was Severus who let him off the hook. "You only provided an excuse for him to look into Hermione's mind," he said in a quiet tone. "As she said, she already believed he knew something was different about her, and I agree. I think he simply wanted an opportunity to look in her mind and so he did. The point is, when he ripped through her memories, everything went tits up."

"_Severus_," Lily hissed. "The children!"

He smirked and drawled, "I'm not a teacher anymore, am I? I gave it up twenty years ago apparently."

Hermione bumped him under the table with her thigh. "Yes, but you're still the adult."

He huffed and turned to James. "Hermione managed to hide the fact that I was a traitor and that we had already destroyed his all but one of his Horcruxes—a feat I am still awaiting an explanation for myself. He did discover that she was from the future and that your son was destined to kill him. He went spare. Bellatrix hit her with the Cruciatus Curse twice, and I volunteered to cast the Killing Curse to prove my loyalty."

"Dear lord!" Remus exclaimed. "What happened when you didn't?"

Severus glared at him. "Who says I didn't?"

"_Did_ you?" hissed James.

"He did," Hermione said with pride. "Blasted me right in the face." They all looked at her like she was demented as she grinned. She looked back at them and rolled her eyes. "Don't you see? You have to _mean_ it. Severus isn't a killer. He knew his spell would fail."

The others all looked at him with wonder, and he scowled. "Don't act so bloody surprised. The only people I ever contemplated killing were you three arseholes."

"But you used the Killing Curse on Voldemort," Remus said, confused.

Severus snorted. "The only person I hated more than you lot was about to kill my girl. You can believe I meant the hell out of _that_."

"Anyway," Hermione said quickly. "He had hexed a set of earrings…"

She picked up the story again, only to be interrupted one more time.

"…yet as soon as they left he managed to remove the earrings, hand me some Healing Potions, get the diary out of the cupboard, call the Order, and stab the Horcrux with a basilisk fang."

"Bloody hell, Snape," said Sirius. "You're a goddamned _beast_."

"The fate of the world hinged on my completing my mission, so I did," Severus said, sounding more defensive than proud.

"And then he went into convulsions and fainted," Hermione added.

"_Merlin_," whispered Remus.

James shook his head. "So you killed Bellatrix and Alecto while he was unconscious?"

"I did, but I had the element of surprise. They were extremely surprised I wasn't dead. I don't know when he regained consciousness, I was a bit busy."

"I think the smell of Bella's guts woke me…"

She finished the story with a rapt audience. When she reached the part where James and Sirius arrived, she shrugged and stopped, not wanting to bring up how terrified she'd been that they would end their rivalry in a horrifying manner.

"And the rest you know," she said in a quiet voice.

"And we don't," said Severus, flapping his hand at them. "So if you would be so kind…"

James scrubbed at his hair again, and said, "I'll keep it short as well. There are hundreds of books that've been written about it, if you want details. We all got a Patronus from Albus telling us to meet at the gate here. It seems he had a way of knowing when you were in danger, and he sent word when it read 'mortal peril'. When your Patronus arrived, we all Apparated right away. Dumbledore blasted the gates off their hinges, and we had a nasty time of it from there to the front door. After that, it was room by room. Dumbledore pinned Voldemort down in the library but was then attacked from behind by the Lestrange brothers. That's when the Dark Lord tried to pull a runner. We cut off his escape and saw him flee into the drawing room. But we couldn't get through his wards until you'd killed him. That's about it as far as the battle went."

He shrugged. "You two went down in history as heroes. You've both been awarded the Order of Merlin, first class, and have an annual stipend—which was why they occasionally tried to get you both declared dead, by the way. By now, you should both have a nice little nest egg to get you started. As for the rest of us, we just went on with our lives. We settled, we got decent jobs, and we made babies. Sirius and I are Aurors, Remus here teaches Defense, and Lily teaches Potions. Did she tell you about Albus? Yeah, that was a loss. Minerva's headmistress now. She does a good job of it."

He finished with another shrug. "Was there anything specific you wanted to know?"

Hermione bit her lip for a moment before asking, "What happened with Draco?"

Lily smiled and reached over to clasp her hand. "He's fine. Andromeda Tonks took him in. He's one of my Harry's best friends."

"And Harry?"

"He and his friend Ron play for the Chudley Cannons. Draco owns the team. He bought it when the previous owner died. You won't know Ron, but he's—"

"I know Ron," she said in a quiet voice.

"You do? Such a nice boy. He's dating our daughter, Eva."

"You have a daughter?"

Lily smiled. "Two, actually. Eva and Maddie."

Hermione smiled. "That's… that's wonderful."

Lily gave her a sad look. "We wanted to give Harry a bigger family, after… well, after hearing what you said about how lonely he was in your time."

"Good. That's… that's good."

Severus stood up and took her hand. "I think that's enough for now," he said. "If we're spending the night in a house that's been locked up for twenty years, we should probably go see what state it's in."

"Oh, that's not a problem," Remus said. "One of the Malfoys' house-elves volunteered to keep it tidy until your return."

"Dear lord, not Dobby!" she blurted.

"That's the one," he replied as they all stood up. "Is that a problem?"

Hermione shook her head while grinning. "No. Not at all…"

"Have you any idea what you're going to do, Snape?" asked Sirius. "You'd make a great Auror."

"First off, I'm going to buy my girlfriend a new wand. She hasn't had one in twenty years. After that? I haven't a clue. I'll let Hermione decide." He looked at Lily. "I'm never teaching again, I'll tell you that much."

"Really? But you _loved_ teaching! You told me so yourself."

He looked at Hermione and smirked. "I lied. I'd rather drink poison."

James laughed at that and gave his wife a matching smirk that Hermione couldn't quite interpret. She could make a few educated guesses though.

"Call us if you need us, Snape," said James, holding out his hand. "Albus told us to make sure you came to no harm, and we still hold to that. The world will find out you're back soon and things will get interesting for a while."

"You might hear from us," Severus said as he shook his hand, "or we might just run away to America. Hermione owns fruit there. We may have ended up in the history books, but our future is a blank page."

After they'd said their farewells—and scribbled a few autographs—Hermione and Severus headed out of the Great Hall.

She stopped short when she saw a young man standing in the hallway. He smiled nervously at them as the light sparkled off his round glasses.

Hermione walked over tilting her head as she whispered, "Harry?"

His smile grew even bigger as he nodded. "Yep. That's me, Harry Potter, only I'm not the savior of the Wizarding World, you are." He held out his hand in friendship. "Hello, Hermione. It's nice to finally meet you."

She shook his hand, overwhelmed by her need to throw herself at him and hug the breath out of him. She restrained herself with the knowledge that he would probably run screaming if she did.

"Here," he said. "I have something for you. That's why I'm here. I heard my dad Floo the others and came running as well. I've been waiting, because no one knew I had this, and I didn't even want my parents to know."

Hermione blinked and looked down to see he was holding out her journal. Her hands shook as she reached out and took the book.

"How did you…?"

"Dumbledore. Minister Fudge showed up in Godric's Hollow to give it to me. The Headmaster had left it to me in his will." Harry laughed and said, "Actually, he gave me a book on Quantum Arithmancy. I had no idea why at all. I was a crap student, and I'm not sure I spoke more than two words to Dumbledore the entire time I was in school. It took me ages to realize it wasn't really a text book. All I had to do was cast a Finite Incantatem and there it was. It wasn't as bad as trying to open the snitch, but he did seem to still enjoy his little games."

Hermione's brow furrowed. "The _snitch?_ You read it?"

Harry nodded. "There was a note tucked inside it that said I had to."

Hermione blanched, remembering more than a few long entries about how much Harry had annoyed the hell out of her.

He grinned. "Yep, I read those too," he said with a laugh. "I'll admit I skipped over the part about Lockhart. The hearts and unicorn doodles gave it away. He's still a git, but he never was hired to teach. And I swear I haven't said anything to Ron. I think his head's big enough without knowing the famous Hermione Granger once kissed him in another life. However, because of your diary, I practically threw Tonks at Remus. They started dating six months ago, and it's working out pretty well if I say so myself.

"Anyway, I think Dumbledore's point was that you might need a friend when you returned, and well," he shrugged and held his arms out, "here I am."

She threw herself at him, and he hugged her back just as hard. "Great," he said. "This is great!" When he pulled away, he reached out and shook Severus' hand, managing to seem a little star struck.

"This is really great," he said again. "I'll let you two go, I know you haven't had any time to, you know, adjust. Just remember I live in Godric's Hollow offseason. You can Floo me when you're settled, and we'll all go for a meal or something. I think you'll like Draco this time around. He's not the prat he was in your time at all. _He's_ engaged to Ginny by the way. We can invite her too, if you want, and Neville. Or maybe later. You just let me know."

"Alright," she said, swiping at the tears on her face. "I'd like that."

"Excellent." He grinned at both of them and sighed. "This went well, didn't it? I was afraid it would be awkward. Right. I'm just going to go say hello to my mum. I'm looking forward to seeing you both again soon."

With a last hug and a wave, he headed into the Great Hall.

Severus shook his head and drawled, "I live in fear of what he thinks _is_ awkward."

She snorted and swatted at him. "Be nice. You don't even know him."

"Niether do you, but it looks pretty hopeful, doesn't it?" As he led her to the doors, he added, "Did you notice he has his mother's eyes?"

Hermione's laugh echoed in the hall as they headed out of the school.

They both drifted to a stop at the bottom of the steps. Staring out at the expanse of snowy lawn, taking in the sunset, it seemed neither of them seemed inclined to hurry off to their blank future. Severus took her hand in his and just stared at the shoveled walk.

"Marry me," he said.

She grimaced and tilted her head at him. "_Severus.._."

"Don't get in a snit. I haven't asked you in twenty years."

She rolled her eyes. "You know, I only used that gag once, and you're working on half a dozen in less than an hour."

His smirk faded, and he looked out at the world again. "I'm frightened, Hermione. I don't know this world. The only people we do know are now twenty years older than us. I have the feeling if we continue to be friends with them, they're going to start asking us when we're going to have a family, or who we're going to support in the election, or how about a round of Wizarding golf. I'm too young to be that old. _Or_ we could be friends with their children. That's not _too_ weird, is it?" he drawled, rolling his eyes. He turned to her. "And this hero nonsense... Don't get me wrong, a few hours ago I was afraid of being an outcast for the rest of my life, this is a definite improvement, but still…" Lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed them. "If you won't marry me, can you at least promise to never leave me? You're all I have."

She stepped into his arms and laid her head against his shoulder. "Now you know why I stayed in Hogsmeade after that first night we'd met. You were my lifeline already."

He hugged her tight and said, "I think that worked out rather well."

Nodding furiously, she said, "So do I. You're still my lifeline, Severus. I'm not going anywhere without you. I promise to marry you just as soon as I stop being afraid of the future. Will that do?"

He gave her his beautiful smile and kissed her. "That will more than do." He took her hand again and they faced the world.

"So. Where do you want to go first?" she asked.

"It might sound stupid…"

"I bet it won't."

He turned to her again and said, "It bothers me that no one's been to my mother's grave in twenty years."

Her tears came so suddenly that they actually hurt. She swallowed several times and waved her hand at the path. "Let's go then. Yes, by all means. You can tell me all about her on the way."

He gave her a shy smile and together they set off down the lane toward their future.

They'd almost reached the gates when he said, "Do you realize we shagged for twenty years straight? I _am_ a beast…"

Her laughter rang out across the hills as they passed through the gates and Apparated away with a quiet pop.

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The End.

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Thank you to **Drinkingcocoa** for such a wonderful prompt. Without her spark, there would have been no ignition. I do hope this was everything you wanted. I tried to tailor it to you, but it was a headstrong little beast and wandered pretty far afield. Special thank you to **HebeGB**, who Britpicked chapters as fast as I was posting. Without her, it would have taken much longer to reach this moment. Your enjoyment of my crazy posting schedule was made possible by her generosity. Thanks also to **MistressBlackSnape**, who acted as an early Cheerleader/Alpha reader. I totally left her hanging when I hit the wall on this fic, and I tortured her by making her wait to read the end until it was posted. You owe the fact that I'm still breathing to her restraint. She knows where I live. Lastly, thanks to everyone who took the time to review and comment, who set alarm clocks to peek to see if updates had arrived in the middle of the night, and who had patience with my typos, misspellings, and even posting of the wrong chapter. I adore you all for allowing me the honor and honest pleasure of being able to entertain you.


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